Good Luck and Goodbye
by LuckyLadybug
Summary: Takes places in Twilight and Dawn verse. An old enemy, intent on making Sephiroth and the others suffer, injures Sephiroth in a crash and abducts him, meanwhile making it appear as though Sephiroth meant to end his own life.
1. We Who Just Bumped Shoulders

**Final Fantasy VII**

**Good Luck and Goodbye**

**By LuckyLadybug**

**Notes: The characters are not mine (except the villain) and the story is. It takes place in **_**Twilight and Dawn**_** verse, at the most recent point in the arc. So Sephiroth is sane again and they're on Earth. Originally it was going to be a long oneshot, but I think now it will have maybe three or more chapters. Many thanks to all who have helped inspire how this turned out, especially Dagron, Aubrie, Lisa, and Kaze! And a warning: as the summary states, this does involve a suicide note. Even though the circumstances are different from how they appear at first, I feel it best to caution about it.**

* * *

**Chapter One**

_**We Who Just Bumped Shoulders**_

Sephiroth frowned to himself. He was sitting at his desk in his home office, and the folder he wanted was not where it should have been. His glasses slid down his nose as he searched through the other contents of the desk. It should have been with the rest of the work he had brought home from Jenova Corp, but it was not. Apparently he had left it either in the car or at the building. And judging from their luck, it was probably the latter.

He glanced to the clock on his laptop. It was later than he had wanted to go out, but he needed the documents in the missing folder. He would check the car, and if he could not locate it there, then it seemed he would be making a trip back to the company.

In irritation he pushed back his chair, moving to stand.

"What's wrong, Seph?"

He glanced over at Zack, who was blinking at him in curiosity from the doorway. The brunet was resting an arm against the doorframe, a stubborn piece of hair flopping into his right eye. In spite of himself, Sephiroth was amused. Zack's hair always had to be wild or unruly in some way.

"I'm missing something," he grunted, taking off his glasses as he walked to the doorway. "I need to see if I left it in the car."

Zack moved to let him past. "I don't think there's anything still there," he said. "You're sure it's not in here?"

"It's not." Sephiroth switched off the light before starting to walk up the hallway. "I'll likely need to go back to Jenova Corp."

"This late?!" Zack blinked. "Can't it wait till tomorrow?"

"The work I brought home needs to be done by tomorrow morning," Sephiroth pointed out. "I'd rather get it done now instead of cramming at the last minute."

Zack shrugged. "Okay," he said, and looked sheepish. "I'd come with you, pal, but I promised Tifa I'd help get the kids to bed, since Cloud's crashed on the couch and all."

A slight smile flickered on Sephiroth's features. Cloud _had_ been exhausted when they had returned home. But it should work out fine, since Marlene and Denzel adored Zack, too. "Don't worry about it," he said. "I won't be gone long." He began to walk down the stairs.

Zack followed. "If you're sure," he said. "It gets lonely driving out there all alone."

"It doesn't bother me." Sephiroth reached the bottom, crossing to the front door. "There's still a slight chance I won't need to go in at all." He paused to slip into his dress shoes before he opened the door and stepped onto the wide porch. The stars still visible in the semi-clear sky twinkled overhead, gracing the property with their presence. The motion sensors activated as he walked down the steps and to the limo at the front of the driveway, bathing the yard in even more, albeit artificial, light.

Zack watched from the porch as Seph unlocked the car and searched through it. Then the silver-haired man backed away and straightened up, annoyance written across his features.

"You've gotta go, huh?" Zack surmised.

Sephiroth nodded. "It shouldn't take more than thirty minutes," he said, easing himself into the driver's seat.

Zack nodded as well. "Then I'll see you soon, pal!" he chirped, giving a friendly wave.

Sephiroth smiled a bit as he pulled the door shut and slid the key into the ignition. The engine came to life as he began backing the limousine out of the driveway.

Zack looked after him as the car's lights grew smaller in the night. Then he stretched, turning to go back inside.

"Seph always works too hard," he said to himself. "I don't know what I'm gonna do with him."

And since Sephiroth had always been that way, including back on Gaia, it was not likely that he would ever change.

Not that Zack really wanted him to. Seph was Seph--serious, kind, lovable workaholic that he was. It would drive Seph crazy to not have work to do. He would probably feel that he did not have a purpose. And on some level, Zack could relate to that.

* * *

Sephiroth did not get back in thirty minutes. And as an hour approached, he was still not there.

At first Zack was not that worried; after all, Seph could have gotten there and found something else that needed to be taken care of before he could leave. And he might not call to tell them if he thought the resolution would be quick.

But when it was nearing ninety minutes, a spark of concern began to rise. Seph had said it would take thirty minutes. Now he had been gone an hour more than that.

Zack grabbed up his phone. He would feel a lot more peaceful once he called Seph and found that all was well. Dialing Seph's cellphone number, he leaned back and waited, crossing his free arm over his chest. Once, twice . . . there was no answer. Zack swallowed hard after eight rings. Maybe Seph had forgotten his cellphone.

He ended the call and dialed their office phone. Again there was no answer.

But after seven rings, there was a click. Zack perked up. "Seph?" he asked.

"No, sir," came a vaguely familiar voice. "It's security. Is something wrong?"

Zack ran his tongue over his lips. "Hey, Seph was coming in to get something," he announced. "Did he ever make it in?"

"Mr. Sephiroth?" The guard sounded concerned now. "No, sir. No one's been in. The doors are locked up. I'd know if he had come, because my little device would beep. When did he leave?"

"An hour and a half ago!" Zack exclaimed, worry seeping into his heart. This really was bad. He had thought maybe Seph had been delayed at the building, or even while coming home, but not that he would not have gotten to the company at all. Suddenly the phone felt slippery in his grasp. What had happened to Seph?! Where was he?!

"I'll certainly keep watch for him here, Mr. Fair!" the sentry declared. "Are you going to look for him?"

"I sure am!" Zack said. "Something'd have to be really wrong for him to not turn up!" And the next question was, How bad was it? Was he laying hurt somewhere? Was it even worse than that? Had he met up with some old enemy? Or some _new_ enemy? The lavender-eyed man's mind was awhirl.

Cloud, who had still been asleep on the couch, began to stir. "What's wrong?" he mumbled, trying to get the strength to raise up off the soft pillow. In spite of being awakened, it was almost impossible to make himself move. It had been such a long day, and the couch was so inviting . . .

Zack looked over at him, still gripping the phone. "Seph went to get something from the company, but he never got there!" he cried. "And it's been almost two hours!" _Two hours._ Almost anything could have happened in two hours. Almost anything could have happened in _five minutes._

Now Cloud was awake. He pushed himself into a sitting position. "You think he might've had trouble with the car?" he exclaimed.

Zack nodded. "Maybe he just ran out of gas or something, but he's not answering his phone. Let's get the other car and look for him!" He was vaguely aware that he was saying something equivalent to "Call if he comes! Thanks, bye!" to the bewildered security guard as he closed his phone. But that was the last thing on his mind.

Cloud was climbing off the couch. "Are we going to get Angeal?" he asked.

"You get him, I'll get the car!" Zack said. Now he was panicking further. Every second that passed could mean more time lost, if Seph was hurt. And Zack kept praying that it was not the case.

He turned, hurrying to the door. The cool night air whipped at his face as he stepped onto the porch. It was a harsh reminder of reality. As much as he wanted to deny that anything was wrong, something told him that there was. And he hated that those somethings were correct, more often than not.

"I wanna be wrong," he said, his voice quiet but plaintive. "Please . . . this time let me be wrong!"

Now Cloud and Angeal were coming out the door behind him. Zack leaped down the stairs, jogging to the other car as he pressed the automatic unlock button on his keychain. "Come on!" he called, thrusting open the door and leaping into the driver's seat.

The other men were in the vehicle in an instant. Angeal, who had gotten into the back, leaned forward with his arms resting on both of the front seats.

"Sephiroth's phone is gone," he reported, his voice grim. "He did take it with him."

Zack swallowed, pulling down the seatbelt. It was not really a surprise. And even if the phone had been left at home, there would still be the most pressing question of why Seph had not reached the company building in this amount of time.

"He'll probably look at us funny for acting so worried," Cloud muttered, gripping his own safety belt.

"Yeah. . . ." Zack gave a weak grin as he inserted the key into the ignition. That was what they would all hope for, anyway. Right now, nothing would give him more happiness than one of Seph's strange _"What is going _on_ here?!"_ expressions. And whether Cloud and Angeal would say it or not, they felt the same.

* * *

The normal route to Jenova Corp involved crossing a part of the highway that featured a sharp drop on one side. Zack felt his heart twist as they drew near to it. There was not a railing in front of part of the drop-off, and skid marks could be seen on the road and into the grass. There had definitely been an accident.

Cloud drew in his breath sharply as Zack pulled over to the side of the road. Almost before the car was fully stopped, Zack was turning off the engine and flinging the door open. The wind, which had begun to grow more violent, knocked the door about as Zack flew out onto the top of the incline. But he barely noticed. He was picking his way down with as much care as possible, yet somehow practically running at the same time.

_"Seph!"_

The agonized cry rent the air. The car that could be seen at the bottom was theirs. Zack knew it. And as Cloud unwound himself from the stubborn seatbelt and exited the car, with Angeal close behind, he knew as well. From what could be seen of the crashed vehicle, it was identical to this one.

A wave of dizziness passed over Cloud as he started down the hill. So Sephiroth was hurt, then. He could not have been found and taken to a hospital. They would have been contacted. And there would be some evidence of it. But they were the first to have come upon the scene.

Blue eyes narrowed. Sephiroth was not careless, either. He would not have simply gone off the road like this . . . not unless something had forced him into it. The car could have screwed up, or even . . . could someone have run him off the road on purpose?

Angeal passing Cloud brought the blond back to the present. He was moving too slow. Zack was already at the bottom, and Angeal was heading in that direction as well. Cloud picked up speed. He did not want to see what kind of condition Sephiroth was in. But at the same time, he could not leave the others to face it without him.

He ran the rest of the way.

Zack, who had flung open the door, was now standing and staring in confusion. His heart, which had been hammering in his ears, could not calm itself. The car was empty. But there was blood on the seat and the steering wheel. Seph had been here. And he was obviously hurt. Where could he have gone from this point?

The brunet whirled, looking to the nearly-dead grass of the field. There were imprints where someone had walked. And blood had dripped into the brown blades.

"He's not here," he choked out, as Angeal and Cloud caught up to him. "He's gone!" He took a step forward. "Seph?!" he yelled. Only the unkind wind answered him, striking his face once again.

A deep frown creased Angeal's features. "What's this?" he asked. Something long and white had fallen to the ground when Zack had opened the door, but in his worry he had not noticed.

Zack turned back as Angeal bent to pick it up. "What is it?" he demanded.

Angeal stiffened, gripping the sheet of paper in his hands. For the only time Zack could remember, his old mentor was turning pale.

Cloud peered at the paper from where he was standing at Angeal's side. Suddenly his insides were turning to ice. It was not possible. Sephiroth was a tormented soul; they all knew it. But he would not . . . he would never . . .

"Tell me already!" Zack cried, running around to Angeal's other side. A strangled gasp issued from his lips. The note was hand-written and signed only "Sephiroth." A spot of blood stained the upper-left corner. But what Zack noticed most was the message.

_I can no longer stand to live in this world knowing that I took away so many lives._

_I do not deserve all that I have. I am leaving the company to you, Zack, and Cloud and_

_Angeal. You will be better off without me, even if you can't believe that now._

_Good luck and goodbye._

For a long moment, no one could think to speak. They were shocked, still trying to process the contents of the note and what it meant. It was too unreal.

At last Angeal broke the silence.

"Sephiroth didn't write this."

Cloud swallowed hard. ". . . I don't think he would, either," he said, "but . . . isn't that how it is a lot of times? They can't believe the person would really . . ." He shook his head. Sephiroth was not suicidal. He always said his pride would keep him alive even if he was the only one left. And anyway, he knew how much something like this would hurt his friends.

Zack grabbed the paper. "It looks like his hand-writing," he said, "but that doesn't mean it is!" His heart had increased speed, if that was possible. This was not happening. Seph would never do this to himself and to them. But . . . if he had not written the note, then who had done it? And why? And most importantly, _where was Seph?!_

Cloud ran a hand through his hair. "What if he was forced to write it?" he suggested. Maybe he had not fully processed this himself. Maybe that was why he was feeling so numb and cold.

Or maybe it was that a sudden, inexplicable fear had struck him. What if they had not fully known the extent of Sephiroth's pain? What if the note was genuine and Sephiroth had tried to kill himself and right now was laying somewhere, bleeding to death--because Cloud and the others had not known to help him?

The urge to scream was increasing. But that would not help anything. Instead he cast his blue-eyed gaze up at the field around them. The origin of the note was not the most important thing right now. They had to find Sephiroth.

Zack was reaching the same conclusion as Cloud. "Let's follow this trail!" he cried, gesturing at the pressed-down grass and patches of blood. He was still clutching the horrifying note as he tore off running. Cloud and Angeal were running after him, but he was only aware of it in some far corner of his mind. He was staring at the footsteps. They were the right size to be Seph's. Beyond this field was a construction site. Could he have gone there and collapsed? How badly hurt was he? Was it the result of the crash . . . or something else?

. . . Or had the crash been deliberate, without anyone else involved?

_No! That was not the explanation. It could never be the explanation!_

Seph had been fine before he had left. A little tired, and irritated, but that was usual when an unforeseen inconvenience popped up. Could he have really been hiding such deep and alarming feelings towards himself? Could he have really wanted to take his own life?

Zack kept running, the sound of his and the others' footsteps in the grass echoing in his mind.

_"I'm going to live out my life to the fullest."_

Seph had said that only a few days before, when Zack had asked him how he liked being on Earth.

_"I don't understand why I was given a second chance. But I won't waste it."_

Those had been Seph's deepest and most sincere feelings. He never would have spoken them if he had not been asked, but he also would not have made them up. And Zack knew, they all knew, that he would not kill himself of his own free will. Not unless something horrible and drastic had happened to change his mindset altogether. It was always possible. But Zack would not believe it. He would believe in Seph until he had been given definite proof that the note was true.

It felt filthy in his hand, really. The only person who would write something like that, if it was not Seph, was someone who would want to cause indescribable heartache and grief for all of them. He wanted to crumple it in his hand. But it could be important evidence to finding their friend. For now it needed to stay intact.

He came to a stop at the corner. The blood ended here. The wind whipped against his face and neck as he stood, staring at the road. How could it stop altogether? Had Seph finally paused to try to mend his wounds, and succeeded? If he was capable of doing that, why hadn't he done it in the first place?

He turned back to Angeal and Cloud. "What if someone took him?!" he exclaimed. "What if they met him here with their car or something and forced him to get in?!"

Angeal's eyes narrowed. "That could have happened," he agreed, stepping closer to the curb. "It looks like there was a car here not too long ago. It was leaking oil." He pointed to a fresh, black puddle on the asphalt.

Cloud stared at it. Maybe it did not have anything to do with Sephiroth. And on the other hand, maybe it was the break for which they had been searching. Maybe this helped to prove that Sephiroth had not tried to do away with himself. There was still the problem of the note, especially with only one set of footsteps leading away from the car. Unless the person had walked right in Sephiroth's trail, it did not look as though anyone else could have left the note there. But for now they would concentrate on this other car. It was all they had.

"Let's go back and get our car," he said. "Maybe we can follow the oil or something, if it leaked all along the way."

"Go ahead and get it," Angeal said.

"I'm going to follow this trail right now before another car comes and messes it up!" Zack added, hurrying into the street. "You can catch up with me then!"

Cloud watched for only a brief moment before turning to go back the way they had come. He broke into a run.

* * *

Consciousness was returning. He was laying on his right side, his bangs falling against and half-concealing his face. There was something soft . . . a bed, maybe? Hopefully not a hospital bed. Though he should be laying on his back in a hospital. And it did not feel as though anything was stuck in his arm. Nor was there any annoying beeping.

Maybe Zack and the others had found him and brought him home? He remembered the other car that had been there on the highway . . . the one that had run him off the road. Everything after that was vague. He had tried to stop the car from swerving in every possible direction, but the sudden change of terrain had not helped. He had crashed.

Green eyes, framed by long lashes, slowly opened. It _was_ a bed that he was laying on, with extraordinarily soft pillows as well. It looked to be a well-furnished room. Across from him was an ornate desk, and above that, a mirror bordered by what looked like fancy gold trim.

He raised up on an elbow. Where was this? It was certainly not home. And now that he was trying to move, dizziness was attacking with vengeance. The room tilted up and down, the bed and every other piece of furniture swaying to the motions. He shut his eyes, sinking back into the pillows. A shaking breath left his lips. Whatever was wrong, it had something to do with his head. Had he hit the steering wheel in the crash? His forehead _was_ bothering him.

"Good. You're awake. You only sustained a few superficial scratches and a nasty bump. Though you bled a lot, which was troublesome."

It was tempting to open his eyes again, but did he dare? Instead he turned his head in the direction of the voice. It sounded electronically disguised, as well as if it was being piped into the room through an intercom system. Did that mean the speaker had trained a hidden camera on the room to monitor his every move? Indignation surged in his veins.

"Why am I here?" His voice was dark, dangerous, a tone that had struck fear into many.

This person only gave a cruel chuckle. "You're here because I will it and want it," was the answer. "You don't remember anything after the accident?"

"I don't remember you." Speaking was not very pleasant at the present time, either. But it was the only way he would learn anything. If that was possible to begin with.

"Then you don't remember being dragged out of the vehicle or the note being left." The voice held a hint of what sounded like sadistic delight.

The words were ominous. A fist clenched. What was this that he was supposed to remember but did not? "What note?"

"Oh, you've left them a suicide note, my friend."

His blood ran chill. Common sense was abandoned as his eyes flew open again. "What do you mean?!" he demanded.

"It's been made to look as though the great Sephiroth wished to end his life in the crash," the voice purred. "And thanks to my practicing over many months, I've devised a near-perfect duplicate of your hand-writing. It was all worth it for this moment, and the moments that will come after it."

Whoever this was wanted Sephiroth to lose his temper. And by now he was very close to it. Zack and Cloud and Angeal would be devastated, not to mention bewildered and horrified. Surely they would realize that Sephiroth had not been the author of such a note. But even if they did, they would know that something was very wrong. They would be in a panic searching for him.

"They won't believe it." His voice was perfectly steady when he spoke. But it was filled with daggers of ice.

"Even if they don't, they'll have doubts," was the sneering reply. "It's only human, you know. And they'll be led on such a wonderful game of cat and mouse."

"Only for as long as I'm here." He would have to devise a way out, of course. He would not sit back and allow this inhumane treachery to continue! This was outrageous.

"You, and they, have seventy-two hours." The voice's owner was enjoying this. "After that, you'll be dead from the poison in your system."

His eyes widened. "Poison?"

"The antidote is somewhere in the mansion," he was informed. "You're free to look for it during the times you feel able. But you have to be careful! There are other poisons too!" A wicked cackle ricocheted through the room.

Then this was all a sick joke. Whoever this was, was playing with their lives and feelings without remorse. Was it an old enemy? Or could it be someone new? The person acted as though he--Sephiroth supposed it was a he--knew a great deal more about Sephiroth and the others than he should. And calling him "the great Sephiroth" was something he had not heard from anyone on this planet, except those who had known him on Gaia. It was a sneering, mocking term.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

A clucking sound. "Don't be so hasty, dear Sephiroth. Let's not spoil the fun. You'll learn, all in good time . . . though you may be a wandering spirit before you find the truth!"

His lip curled. He would not die. If the antidote was within the walls of this home, he would find it. And Zack and the others would be looking for him. He would never forgive himself if they found him laying dead.

"Answer me this one question," he said then, his voice still cold. "You knew me from long before this world, didn't you?"

"Such a smart former general! Just what I'd expect." It sounded like the wretch was grinning in sadism. "You know, I never would have pictured you as the businessman type. But maybe now you're still fighting wars, hmm, just with other corporations. How many have you killed or otherwise subdued to keep yourself on top?"

Sephiroth was disgusted. "I am not that kind of businessman," he said.

A laugh. "Oh, isn't that what the Shinras tried to say, too? That they were perfectly good people trying to benefit mankind? It wouldn't be fitting to destroy their public image, now, would it."

At last Sephiroth felt able to attempt sitting up. He eased himself into the position, his gaze traveling the room. The camera, wherever it was, had been kept from his sight. That was all the more angering. Were there cameras in every room, even the bathrooms? Was this person even in the house at all, or was he observing everything from some other, remote location?

"I have never claimed to be a good man." This verbal game was annoying. He was only playing along because with each statement the other was making, a bit more of his personality and his knowledge was revealed. And as for "benefiting mankind", that had never been Sephiroth's goal. He was only trying to survive. He was not a humanitarian.

Though it would not be displeasing to him, if the company's technology was able to improve life on this planet. It would seem to be coming full circle in a way, especially since he did not want to control the planet as Shinra had done.

"It's good if you don't have a false image of yourself," the unseen madman declared now, "because you are most definitely not a good person! You are a wretched murderer forever tainted by the blood you've spilled, both for Shinra and for your own insane goals. If we were in the same room, I would spit upon you.

"And now this communiqué will end. I do hope you'll have fun traversing through my little home. With any luck, you will inject yourself with more of the poisons instead of finding the antidote. Then you truly would die by your own hand!" A grotesque cackle faded into a _click_ and then silence.

Sephiroth leaned forward, swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress. The dizziness had passed for now, so this would be the best time to begin the search for the antidote. There was no sense in loitering when his life was at stake.

And maybe as he went, he could try to decipher this outrageous person's identity. From his speech pattern, he could be any number of people who had abhorred Shinra. It would be imperative to listen for any nuances or other clues that would help narrow down the list to the guilty party.

Inside he was seething. But he would not give this childish spy the satisfaction of seeing his fury. He would appear perfectly calm and collected.

He could only pray that Zack, Cloud, Angeal, and whoever else would be looking for him would stay safe. And that if any of them did hold doubts on whether Sephiroth had written the note, such doubts would be dispelled. It would be far worse for them to wonder if the lies were true than to know what was actually happening.

* * *

Zack was still following the oil trail several blocks later. His shoes slapped the pavement as he ran. It was surely too much to hope for that the spillage would lead all the way to where Seph was, but he still could hope anyway. It was their only clue.

And yet he frowned. Why would someone be so careless as to have this leaky oil problem if they were going to abduct Seph? If the person was not stupid, it almost seemed like they were being led on a deliberate chase. But why? What would be the point of something like that? Seph would not have had the chance to mess around with the oil himself, would he? If he could have, he would have done it, just to leave a trail for them to follow. But it was really not likely.

There was some old building up ahead now--a service station, from the looks of it. And a car was parked in front of it. Zack's heart sank. Was it the one he had been chasing?

Sure enough, as he ran over to the abandoned car, it was obvious that there was a large puddle of the black substance underneath it. And of course the car was empty. But maybe there would be some kind of clue. Why would it have just been left here? Zack frowned, his hands going to his hips.

"Hey!" he called to the night air. "If this is supposed to be a joke, it's not funny!"

He looked back to the car, grabbing hold of the driver's side door handle. The door opened. Blood was on the backrest of the passenger seat, though it did not touch the driver's side. A fist clenched. Seph had been there, alright. If the creep had switched cars, he had probably carted Seph somewhere else. It would be much better to think that Seph had escaped and the abductor had chased him without catching him. But in Seph's probable condition it almost certainly would not be the case.

Zack's stomach was twisting in his fear. Now it was obvious that there was another party involved--not that he had ever believed Seph had been alone.

He bit his lip. If the car had working license plates, maybe they could use them to get more information. Unless the car ended up being stolen. But it was worth a try. Moving back, he eased the door shut and walked around to the front. The license number stared back at him. He grabbed a small notepad out of his pocket, fumbling with a pen to write it down.

Their car was pulling up now. He could hear it, and through the abandoned vehicle's windows Cloud and Angeal could be seen getting out, but he did not fully look up until the number was written. Then he closed the pad, sticking it back in his pocket as he ran around to meet them.

"This is the car!" he cried. "The oil's pooling under it."

Angeal's eyes narrowed. "And Sephiroth isn't here," he deduced.

Cloud frowned. "He couldn't be in there, could he?" he wondered, looking to the gas station.

"It doesn't look like anyone's been in there for ages, maybe years!" Zack exclaimed.

Angeal nodded. "But let's check anyway." He started to cross the lot to where the building stood, dark and desolate against the night sky. Cloud and Zack followed, watching as Angeal took out a flashlight and shined the beam on the old door.

"The lock hasn't been broken," he announced, lifting the padlock in his hand.

"They must've just stopped here to switch cars," Cloud muttered. "I don't think Sephiroth was in any condition to be trying to get away."

"Even if he tried, we'd probably see some sign of it," Angeal agreed. He let the padlock fall back into place as he straightened up. "I'm going to walk around the back."

Zack was already going to the opposite corner, peering around it. There was still no indication of human life, only a few stray weeds growing up against the side of the building. They waved as the wind started to increase again.

"Seph!" he screamed. Of course there was not an answer.

Something about Zack's desperate voice chilled Cloud. He turned away, pain etched into his features.

Seeing this out of the corner of his eye, Angeal frowned and turned back. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Cloud froze. "Yeah," he said then, forcing his tone to be normal. "I'm just fine." He paused. "I'm going to check out the car some more."

Angeal gave a slow nod. He would let it go for now. He did not know Cloud that well, and it was not in his nature to pry.

And right now, their biggest concern was finding Sephiroth alive and safe.


	2. He Won't Show His Heart

**Chapter Two**

_**He Won't Show His Heart**_

As Sephiroth reached the door, he had to admit he was vaguely surprised at the discovery that it was unlocked. With this cruel and heartless game, he had almost expected that he would be locked in the room and would have to find his own way out. But instead the knob turned, and he pushed the door open to reveal a long and spacious corridor. It was brightly lit, and expensive paintings and closed doors lined both sides of the hall. No other living being was in sight. Maybe he was right and he had been left there alone. But if so, that indicated either overconfidence or realistic surety on the part of the abductor.

He stepped out onto the carpet. Now there was the problem of where the antidote would be hidden. The logical place would be a medicine cabinet, especially if the madman decided that such an obvious location would not be checked. Or maybe he would keep some of the other poisons there.

How would it even be possible to know which was the correct vial when he did find it? It would likely not be marked "antidote." A frown crossed Sephiroth's features as he began to move forward. Maybe the situation was hopeless and he would be tricked up to the time he perished. It would be preferable if he could either call the police or escape this house altogether. But he would probably be prevented. He reached into his pocket. Of course his cellphone was gone. And were there even working telephones in this building?

All of the doors along here seemed to be ajar. He pushed open the first one as he came to it. Beyond it was a vacant bedroom, and even with the light off, he could see from the glow cast by the hall that the predominant color was blue. A light blue adorned the walls, with a darker sapphire hue for the drawn curtains and the bedspread. A dresser stood near the door, and a nightstand next to the bed, both made of dark wood.

Any drawer was a logical place for the antidote to be kept. He stepped inside, switching on the light as he came. Turning to face the dresser, he pulled open the top drawer. It was filled with clothes, all either black or red in color. And why did that feel like he was being mocked somehow? Black was his preferred color to wear, but this person could also be using it to mean darkness. And the red might mean blood. He lifted out the top shirt, holding it up to his chest. It would fit perfectly.

Something small and rectangular twirled to the floor. He frowned, looking down at it. It must have fallen out of the shirt when he had unfolded it. Setting it back in the open drawer, he bent down to retrieve the paper. His aching back screamed in protest as he stayed in that position, squinting at the hand-written message.

_White doesn't suit you, Sephiroth._

He straightened up, glowering at the note as he placed it on top of the dresser. Strange, that only now it was dawning that he was not wearing his white dress shirt from before the crash. It was probably bloodied and unpleasant, but it was abhorrent to wear anything provided by this man. He looked down at himself. At least the shirt he was wearing now was black and not red. Red was far too flashy and noticeable.

Carefully he removed everything from the compartment. There was nothing besides the clothes. He shoved them back in before opening the next drawer. There was no point in being careful now that he knew there was not a vial that might fall to the floor and break.

In each of the drawers it was the same; there were clothes of some description in each one. A few moments later he pushed the bottom drawer as far in as it would go. He was likely being watched now as well. He could not see the camera, but he could sense it. Someone who would go to all this trouble would want to follow every movement Sephiroth made.

He walked over to the nightstand. There was only one compartment in it. Grasping the handle, he slid open the drawer. Inside were two vials.

His frown deepened as he picked them up. They were identical in size, and each was blank save for a colored dot near the top. One sported red while the other hailed blue. What did the colors mean? Were they in lieu of labels so that the madman would know what each contained? Or was it a code that Sephiroth was supposed to decipher? He glanced in the drawer again. There was not a note here. Apparently this had been left for him to solve on his own.

For now he would take both of them with him. There was not any point in injecting himself with one or the other right away, especially when he might only further poison himself. But he would have to determine the answer soon. Now there was less than seventy-two hours--if that had not been a lie to begin with. Or maybe what had been meant was seventy-two hours from the moment of injection, which could have been even an hour or more before Sephiroth awakened.

He turned to look at the opposite side of the room. On the wall behind the door was a painting depicting a dignitary drinking poison in sharp and realistic detail. Several other men--traitors--were standing by, observing with knowing sneers. One of them was holding a small container with the skull and crossbones on it, unbeknownst to the drinker.

He looked away from it, annoyance written across his features.

How pleasant.

* * *

Cloud had never thought that they would be journeying to Jenova Corp this late at night. But it had the best computers, and what they needed now was the best. All of them were agreed that before going to the police, they needed to do as much investigating as possible on their own. Involving the local authorities would run the risk of exposing themselves as aliens--and that would be the worst thing that they could do. Plus, they had gotten so used to dealing with problems themselves on Gaia. It was really preferable that way.

As long as they would be able to actually _do something._ He felt tense as well as helpless as Zack typed the license plate number into the database. He and Angeal crossed their arms and stood by, waiting for the results.

Who would do something like this to Sephiroth? Dalton was capable of the cruelty, and yet it did not seem like his style--from what Cloud had seen of him, anyway. Dalton seemed more the type who would want to brag about his involvement, or else to write a note himself saying that Sephiroth had attempted suicide and Dalton had taken him away "until he could get hold of himself." But for all they would know, Dalton might be trying a new trick. It made Cloud's blood boil. They never could get away from enemies.

Sephiroth had not written the note. Both Zack and Angeal were firm about it, and Cloud certainly did not disagree with them. But the fear in his heart persisted. What if he had been blind to Sephiroth's full anguish? What if Sephiroth had wanted to die but Cloud or Zack or Angeal could have stopped him and comforted him if they had known? It was agonizing.

It was also more that he did not trust himself rather than that he did not trust Sephiroth. But talking about it would just give off the wrong idea. Either way he looked at it, he was doing Sephiroth a grave disservice by even entertaining the thought that he would be suicidal. And yet, how could he not at least consider it? It was true, what he had said--that many times suicide victims appeared fine to those around them before they did away with themselves. And if Sephiroth really was that tortured, then he needed more help than just being found. If Sephiroth did have those feelings and the possibility was ignored, than that also would be a disservice. It was so overwhelming to try to think about!

On the other hand, if some madman had written the note to torment them, what guarantee did they have that Sephiroth was not already dead? Maybe he had been killed in the crash, or maybe just badly injured and the creep would finish it off. And then he would probably make it look like suicide for when Sephiroth was found. The very thought made him sick. But Zack and Angeal were surely considering the same possibilities. It would seem selfish to bring up his own concerns, as if he was looking to be comforted himself. It was better to stay quiet on these points, too.

"There!" Zack exclaimed, bringing Cloud back to the present.

"You found something?" he demanded.

Zack gave a firm nod. "The car belongs to Hideki Hitokiri, and it hasn't been reported stolen!" he said.

Angeal's eyes narrowed. "Hitokiri?" he repeated.

Zack blinked. "Yeah," he said. "Why?"

"In Japanese, that means 'man-slayer'." Angeal's voice and visage were grim. "Or 'man-killer.'" Which somehow sounded even more chilling.

_"'Man-slayer'?! 'Man-killer'?!"_ Now Zack had become the echo. His eyes were wide and horrified.

Angeal nodded. "It could be a coincidence," he said slowly.

"But it probably isn't." Cloud frowned.

Zack swallowed hard. "Hey, isn't there a word that sounds almost the same in Wutaian?" he remembered.

"It means the same thing, too," Angeal said.

Zack was printing the information in the next instant. "It gives an address," he said. "So let's not waste time! Seph might be there!" But even as he said it, the cotton was coming back into his throat. It was not likely that it would be this easy. If they were on the right track, they could still have a long way to go before they could reach the finish line. And what might have happened to Seph by then?

What might have happened to him _by now?_

It was horrifying, to think about everything they had suffered on both planets. But somehow they had always come through, despite it taking longer for some resolutions to come than others. It could not be any different now. He would not let it. None of them would let it! Seph would be just fine. Soon he would be back with them, and everything would be normal again. . . .

Angeal's strong hand came down on Zack's shoulder. "Let's be careful," he said. "If we get hurt, we won't be able to help Sephiroth." Zack had matured a great deal over the years. Angeal had recognized that as soon as he had seen his former trainee on this planet. But he was still Zack, and Zack was sometimes impulsive when it came to his friends. Anyone could see that this was shredding his soul. He was probably blaming himself, at least in part, for not having gone with Sephiroth. And Angeal hated to see that.

Zack looked up at him. "I know," he said. And he gave a weak grin. "Aren't I always careful?"

Angeal answered with a stern look.

Cloud retrieved the paper as it emerged from the printer. "This is in one of the middle-class neighborhoods," he realized as he appraised it. "Sephiroth and I were down in that neighborhood several months ago, checking out some property."

Zack blinked in confusion. "And where was I?" he exclaimed.

"In a meeting," Cloud said. "There were those two appointments and they ended up being at the same time, so we couldn't all go to one or the other."

Zack leaped up from the chair. "Well, come on!" he cried. "Let's get going!" With that he was rushing to the door.

Cloud hurried after him.

Angeal took a moment to shut down the computer before following. He stared into the monitor screen as he straightened. If Sephiroth was in any condition to move about, he would be trying to get away. That was one consolation.

But the concern that kept plaguing them was, What if he was not able? There had been so much blood in and around the cars. Sephiroth might be somewhere helpless.

Of course Angeal wished and hoped that they would find him at Hitokiri's house. But they might not.

Or they might only find his mortal remains.

He gritted his teeth, walking to the door and turning out the light.

* * *

Sephiroth raised a hand to his head as he made his way further down the hall. By now he had looked through several other rooms, but had not found any other vials. And he was nearing the end of the corridor. There was a staircase up ahead, past the final two rooms he needed to search. Hopefully he would be able to descend the stairs on his own terms. The vertigo was beginning to return in full force. And the last thing he wanted was to discover what it was like to fall down a long flight of steps. Especially one that curved.

He slumped back against the wall. Maybe if he rested for a few minutes, the discomfort would pass away again.

His heart was racing too, much faster than it should. He moved his hand over it, feeling the frantic thumping pulsations. Should it be that wild already if he really had three days? Or would this come and go in spurts as his body struggled to fight the poison?

Or did he have three days at all? What if he had been lied to?

He gritted his teeth. If he could only figure out what the color-coding meant. It was likely that when he did find other vials, they would also have markings of various hues. And it would not all be random, would it? Surely each color had some meaning.

Normally he would think that red would mean to not take it. But he was unsure of the meaning for blue. If it was green, it would be logical to think it meant it was alright to take it.

Or maybe the madman would reverse the meanings, just to be even more cruel. The red might be what he would be supposed to take.

There might not even be an antidote, for all he would know. Maybe everything that he would find would be poison, and no matter what he would take, he would make his condition worse and ensure a quicker death.

Would something like this have ever happened if he was still under Jenova's influence? Of course he still had her cells in his body, but they were dormant. Whether that was because she was sealed away or because she had decided she had no further use for him was unclear. But it was perfectly fine with him to be left in his own strength. He did not want any assistance from her.

Maybe he himself had ensured that they would be dormant, due to his strong will. After all, while insane he had managed to gain power over Jenova's hold on him and control _her._ And his mental strength was far more potent now that he had posession of his mind again.

He took a deep breath, straightening up. The ailments were starting to subside at last. It was time to move on.

And right next to the second-to-last door was another painting depicting poison. This time it was a rendition of Snow White and her apple. He glowered at the art piece. This person was obsessed, apparently wanting to remind Sephiroth every chance he could of what was happening. As if he could ever not be thinking of it.

Underneath the work was a small table with a potted plant. He studied it as he moved closer. The only other location where he had seen a painting was in the room where he had found the vials. Could the paintings be clues as well as taunts?

He reached for the drawer, pulling it open. Inside were two more vials, this time both sporting green branding. His frown deepened as he lifted them out. They were identical to the others, save for the different marks.

So now there were three colors. The code could not be as simple as "take this, not that." Maybe the hues showed various levels of damage that would be caused? Or even indicated what might be damaged? Though that would still leave confusion over the green.

He looked back up at the picture. Traditionally the apple was colored red, but here it was depicted as green. Did that have any significance? And were there any details such as that in the first painting?

He turned to look back the way he had come. Going back to study the first picture might result in him having to stop again to rest before being able to leave this floor. But it could be a clue to his survival. It would be foolish to not take the chance. Slipping the new vials into another pocket, he began to travel back along the corridor.

At least the dizziness held back long enough for him to get inside that first bedroom another time. Again turning on the light, he walked to the picture. The container the person was drinking from was golden, but there were several purple gems encrusted within it. And if there was any significance, that did not help at all. Purple was a combination of red and blue. Not to mention a symbol of royalty. His lip curled in disgust. He was going to be mocked all along the way.

"Ahh, poor Sephiroth. You're finding this so confusing, aren't you?"

He froze at the sound of the voice. With narrowed eyes he looked upward. Mostly concealed near the light fixture was a speaker. But the camera was still hidden from him.

"Oh, don't dawdle here looking for evidence of me! There's still so many other places to look for help for yourself, and so little time to go about it!"

His earlier concerns returned to his mind. "Did you give me the correct amount of time that I have?" he asked, his tone filled with ice.

"Correct amount?" A wretched cackle. "I may have. Or maybe I got the numbers mixed up. What if you only had twenty-seven hours back then? Oh dear, now I'm not sure myself."

It was easy to tell that the person knew exactly how much time was left. And somehow it seemed more likely that it would be closer to this new amount. That would only give him a little more than a day. Maybe even less by now. He had been going through each room thoroughly, so it had taken some time just to come as far as he had done.

Would Zack and the others even find him in that amount of time? He was certainly not going to rely only on them coming; he would keep searching for the solution until he could no longer move. But he did not want them to be forced to take part in a wild goose chase. He wanted them to find him. If he had not yet found the antidote, then they would still worry, but at least they would know he was yet alive. And with that many people looking, it might more likely be discovered soon.

Again his heart began to race. He made a grunt of pain, clapping his hand over the left side of his chest as he sank back against the door.

"The poison is starting to work already? Oh well, then I must have given you the wrong time at first. It's supposed to only begin its assault when you pass the twenty-four hour mark."

Sephiroth did not even look up at the speaker. "I won't trust . . . anything you tell me," he choked through gritted teeth. The room was starting to teeter. He shut his eyes, leaning further against the door. Of course he would need to take stock in what he was being told, but accepting it as definite truth would be folly. And he would never want to make it appear as though he needed to depend on his captor for information.

"Oh, you don't have to." The wretch was smiling. "But you might want to know anyway that your friends are just arriving at another home of mine."

The green eyes narrowed. "Another home?" he repeated. Was that second location where the person actually was, and Zack and the others would meet up with him? Or were both homes being monitored and the owner was still somewhere else altogether?

A cruel laugh. "I wonder what horrors they'll find inside."

Rage surged through Sephiroth's veins. Would some evidence be left to indicate that Sephiroth had been there--and that he had possibly tried to kill himself again? Or would the madman at least acknowledge that he had taken Sephiroth and that he was behind this chaos?

"And I wonder how Commander Fair is doing these days." Now the voice had taken on a mock musing tone.

Sephiroth's response was frozen. "I'm sure you know exactly how he's been doing." So, he had known Zack on Gaia as well. Not that it helped much in determining who he was.

Another laugh. "True, I have been keeping up on Jenova Corp news ever since I learned of its existence! Really, couldn't you have found a better name than that?"

Did he know of the significance of Jenova? Or did he only think the name was bizarre? The answer to that question could reveal a great deal about his identity.

. . . Though it had already been shown that Sephiroth's insanity was apparently familiar news. He had said before that Sephiroth had killed people for Shinra and for his "own insane goals." But even though a good deal of Gaia had wound up being aware of Sephiroth's madness in the end, and the fact that he had tried to cause Meteor, the general population should not know much about Jenova.

"Does it matter?" Sephiroth retorted.

"I just would have thought the great Sephiroth would have come up with something different," was the smooth answer.

And that made it sound as though he was deliberately evading the question.

"What I choose to name my company isn't any of your business." Though Sephiroth really did want to change the name. Sometimes he and the others had discussed what it could be called instead. But they had never arrived at a definite conclusion. And so it had continued to exist with the hated name. Maybe if everything calmed down long enough, they could decide on something else.

"I make everything about you my business! After all, you were the same for everything of mine." Now a hint of bitterness had slipped into his tone.

"But I shouldn't keep you!" he continued now. "If you're starting to feel better, you need to check those other rooms and then find a way downstairs. If you fall, you might shatter every one of those vials. And if any of them are what you need, then you would be out of luck for certain!" A _click_ signaled the end of the conversation.

Sephiroth began to straighten up again. The pain was lessening, so he should not waste any more time in here. There did not seem to be any other details he could gather from the painting in front of him. Though it did look like there were other goblets on the table, each one encrusted with the actual colors of the markings he had found. His gaze traveled over them, mentally adding them up. All together there were six, in addition to the one being used. Two existed of each color except purple. So far he had located four--one red, one blue, and both greens. Was the number significant? He would keep it in mind, just in case.

He turned, making his way out of the room for the second time.

Hopefully he would not be back.

* * *

Meanwhile, the voice had not lied about at least one thing--Zack, Cloud, and Angeal were approaching the address given on the license plate information.

"So there really is a house here," Cloud muttered. "I thought it'd be a vacant lot."

Angeal frowned at the abode. All the lights were on, despite the late hour and the fact that there were not any cars in the driveway. "It doesn't look like anyone's home," he commented, eying the tall deciduous tree in the yard. It looked as if it could have easily existed for fifty years or more. It was too bad that it could not talk and let them know what had happened here.

Zack pulled into the driveway, trying to keep the engine as quiet as he could. In case Seph was in there by any chance, the car should be as close as possible so that he would not have to walk far. Lavender eyes glowered as the wind increased again, sending the old tree's branches dancing and waving in a foreboding manner. "Maybe he left Seph in there and skipped out," he suggested.

"If he wrote the note, nothing could be put past that creep," Cloud said, undoing his seatbelt as he began to climb out onto the pavement.

"_If_ he did?!" Zack exclaimed, hopping out as well. He peered at his blond friend in concern. "Cloud, you don't really think Seph . . . ?"

"No, I don't," Cloud shot back. "But that still doesn't mean this guy did, either. All we're going on is that his car was leaking oil and drove past the field where Sephiroth was."

"And there was blood in his car," Angeal said, getting out and shutting the door behind him. He started up the walk. "He did have a passenger with him."

"Yeah, and there's that freaky name he came up with!" Zack said, hurrying after him. "Come on, that can't be his real name!"

Cloud frowned as he followed. That was true. It just seemed too weird to be real. And it all fit too well into this situation. The guy could have taken on that psuedonym as a hidden taunt and signal that he was going to kill someone. But if he wanted Sephiroth dead that bad, then who was he? It did not seem like he could be a complete stranger. But they had not especially made any enemies on this planet, either. Most, if not all, of their adversaries were people they had known on Gaia.

Actually, when he thought of it, he did not remember that any former enemies other than Dalton and his crew had wound up on Earth. It would have to either be them or someone who had not revealed his presence yet. Or a new nemesis made on this planet whose identity was unknown.

Angeal blinked in surprise as he arrived at the porch. "The door's unlocked," he announced. "And not only that, it's open." A thin stream of light made itself known from the visible crack. As Angeal pushed on the door, it creaked aside all the way, revealing the nicely-furnished living room beyond. The room was devoid of life, and yet every light within it had been turned on.

"It could be a trap," Cloud remarked.

"Then we'll just be careful!" Zack vowed, moving past Angeal to get inside. He stood in the middle of the room, taking in the surroundings. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, or wrong, other than the lights on everywhere. From where he was standing, he could see that the kitchen was also lit, and the hall. Under the circumstances, that in itself seemed wrong! Only one light would need to be kept on if the owner was concerned about thieves. Or maybe he had even already been robbed. It was bizarre that the door had been ajar, too. And yet the place did not look burgled, either.

The others followed him in, Angeal pulling the door closed behind them. Zack barely glanced back, instead placing his hands to his hips as he glared at the room.

"Does anything about this place seem funny to you guys?" he asked.

Cloud snorted. "Besides the fact that some psychopath lives here and probably kidnapped Sephiroth?" he retorted.

"That's just it!" Zack gestured wildly. "It doesn't look lived in at all! Sure, there's the basic furniture stuff, but there's nothing else--no pictures, or books, or anything!" He stepped forward. "I mean, even Seph's office has some books."

"Maybe the guy doesn't have any hobbies except killing people," Cloud muttered, only half-sarcastic. It _did_ seem off, now that Zack had mentioned it.

Angeal shook his head. "It looks more like this house could be here to give an illusion of being lived in," he remarked.

Somehow these possibilities made everything all the more disturbing. Cloud walked past Zack, advancing further into the room. And his stomach twisted.

"There's blood on the floor by the stairs," he announced.

Zack paled. He ran over, staring at the carpet. It was only a few drops, but it was unmistakably blood. And he could not stand it any longer.

"Seph!" he screamed, leaping up two steps at a time until he gained the top. Cloud and Angeal were right behind him as he randomly turned to the left. All the doors were wide open, and as Zack arrived at the bathroom he suddenly felt sick. With shaking hands he bent down, lifting something up from the tiled floor.

"What is it?" Angeal demanded.

Slowly Zack stood up and turned around. In his hands he held a bloodied and torn shirt. Some of the original white color could still be seen, and Cloud drew a sharp intake of breath. It was Sephiroth's.

Zack turned it over, his hands trembling. Written on the back, using the drying blood, was a chilling message.

_Tick-tock._

The sickened feeling extended to Cloud. The meaning was clear--time was running out. And Sephiroth was not here. The message would not have been left if he was in this house. The creep had expected them to come and look for him here. That was probably why he had abandoned his car, so that they would see the license plates and track down this place. What kind of nut were they dealing with? And how would they ever find Sephiroth? How much time was left by now?

Angeal shook his head in disbelief as well as horror. "That's it," he said at last. "We can't cover enough ground by ourselves. We'll have to call the police. Maybe they'll even know something about this person."

Zack nodded, dropping the shirt onto the sink. He felt as if he was in a daze. So much was happening so fast, with no relief in sight. . . . "And the others," he said. "We should call them, too--Vincent, and Cid, and Barret. . . . They could help look. . . ."

Cloud turned away, shutting his eyes tight. His heart was racing faster than he had thought possible. He had only realized several months ago that Sephiroth was his friend. Angeal had renewed his old friendship with Sephiroth around the same time. And of course, Zack had always been Sephiroth's devoted friend, even before he had been restored to life. Now there was a very real chance that they might all lose him.

He clenched a fist. Somehow, even though it looked impossible right now, they would find Sephiroth before it was too late. He was not going to give up, and neither were the others.

"I'll call Vincent," he said then.

"I'll handle the police," Angeal announced.

Zack nodded, forcing himself back to the present. "I'll get Cid and Barret," he said. "And I'll call to let the girls know what's up." He had called before, when they had been en route to Jenova Corp to access the supercomputer, and Aerith had said that she and Tifa would stay up to find out what developed. They would, too.

Out the frosted bathroom window, the first rays of pre-dawn light could be seen. All of them had been awake all night, and it was not likely that there would be time for sleep during the day, either. Tifa and Aerith would likely join the search while the kids were in school. Ordinarily Zack would protest their lack of sleep, but right now he was too worried. Any added help would be more than welcome.

The trio took out their cellphones to place the necessary calls. Behind them, a grandfather clock chimed.


	3. We'll Meet Again Sometime

**Notes: Thanks to Lisa and Kaze for plot help! And thanks to Kaze for the past chapter's help too, including the concept of the paintings and the idea of the message in blood. The first scene in this chapter is what originally inspired the story, courtesy of the theme **_**Senza (I'm lost without; can't do without)**_** at 18Coda.  
**

* * *

**Chapter Three**

_**We'll Meet Again Sometime**_

Vincent frowned as he looked over the room. Police officers were everywhere, as they had been for the last few hours. The actual people varied, as some were searching the city while others were still combing the house for clues. Then the ones who had been out would come back and others would leave.

Of course the same was true of Vincent himself and those he knew. He was just coming back to see if there were any new leads, after having scoured a section of the city without any success. And as his crimson gaze swept the room, he finally saw Cloud at the very back. He was slumped in a chair, propping himself up on an elbow as he ran a hand through his blond spikes. His rumpled clothes and sunken eyes spoke of a night without sleep. He looked as if he was at the end of his rope.

That was how he had sounded on the phone hours before. Vincent had only heard him that despondent a handful of times, and it certainly attested to how he had changed in the last months. Where once he had claimed he wanted Sephiroth to stay away, or that he only cared for Zack's sake, now he wanted Sephiroth to return safe more than anything else. And it was obvious that he did not care solely because of Zack. Cloud had accepted it the previous autumn.

Now Vincent narrowed his eyes, weaving his way through the crowd to where Cloud was being half-swallowed by the soft chair. "Cloud," he greeted.

Cloud started and looked up. "Did you find anything?" he demanded.

Vincent shook his head. "You haven't slept," he stated.

"I can't sleep," Cloud retorted. "Zack and Angeal and the girls haven't slept, either. Sephiroth's life is at stake."

"How much longer can you go on like this?" Vincent's tone was quiet and unassuming, yet concerned.

"As long as I have to." Cloud tried to sit up more. "I don't have any right to rest."

It would be useless to try to convince him otherwise, and that was not Vincent's style to begin with. He could sense that something deeper was bothering Cloud.

". . . The police don't know anything about this creep." Cloud leaned forward, staring at the floor. "It's like he came out of nowhere just to hurt Sephiroth."

"They're wondering if there's some other meaning to the message he left on Sephiroth's shirt," Vincent said.

Cloud nodded. "Zack wondered that, too. We were trying to figure out what it could be, but unless Sephiroth's being held hostage in a clock shop it doesn't make sense."

"Could there be some other meaning that's related to clocks? Such as a street name?"

"There's that, too." Cloud straightened up in the chair. "We've been checking out all the streets that could be it. I just got back from going up and down a block with a police officer."

Vincent mulled over the matter. "What about the suicide note?" he suggested. "Was there anything in it that could be a secret code?"

"I don't know." Cloud looked sickened by the mention of the note. "Maybe the 'good luck and goodbye' has some other meaning. Or maybe nothing means anything except to torture us!" His voice gained an edge.

Vincent remained quiet now. If he did not speak, Cloud might feel comfortable enough to reveal what else was concerning him. That was how their relationship was, in general; Cloud would discuss things with him that he did not want to talk about with the others. And Vincent would listen, offering advice or giving subtle comments to make Cloud think and discern the solution on his own.

". . . When we found that note, I didn't believe Sephiroth had written it." Cloud was gazing at the floor again. ". . . But I couldn't help wondering if he had. I hate thinking it about him. He's not that kind of person! And yet I just keep thinking that if he was, and we just didn't know or see it, I'd never forgive myself if he . . ."

He trailed off, at last raising his tortured eyes to meet Vincent's. "Zack and Angeal just flat-out wouldn't believe he wrote it. But I still had that lingering doubt. It makes me feel like I'm a bad friend."

Vincent frowned. "Why weren't you able to believe it?" he asked.

"I don't know." Cloud forced his hair out of his eyes. "I just knew he'd need a lot of help if he really felt that way. And I'd want him to get it if he needed it."

"Then weren't you only wanting the best for him?" Vincent deduced.

"I guess. . . ." Cloud frowned. "It just feels more like I was betraying him than anything else."

Vincent crossed his arms. "Have you spoken of this with Zack?"

"Of course not!" Cloud exclaimed. "He's heartbroken and worried enough without me adding to it. Do you really think I'd put that on him?"

"No," Vincent agreed. "Not unless he noticed and persisted in asking."

"He noticed," Cloud mumbled, "when I slipped up and said 'if' the psycho had written the note. But I brushed it off and just said we didn't really know he was involved. And it was true. That was before we found the shirt. . . ." He sank further into the chair. "That changed everything. Sephiroth would never do something like that. Even when he was nuts, I don't think he . . ." He trailed off, making a face. "Just listen to me, rambling on about Sephiroth's integrity."

Vincent's expression did not change. "Friendship goes a long way in changing viewpoints."

"Heh. . . ." A weary sigh escaped Cloud's lips. "I don't know what was the matter with me a few months ago," he muttered, "when I thought Sephiroth had been pretending to be good just to torture me. He never could be something he wasn't. And he never tried, either. He always felt it was beneath him."

He started to straighten up again. "If we can't save him, I don't know what'll happen. Well . . . Zack probably wouldn't be able to get over it. And I don't know how Angeal would act." He leaned forward. ". . . I don't know how I would, either. Just that I'd blame myself and hate myself some more." Placing his hands on the arms of the chair, he began to push himself up. Vincent stepped back to allow him his space.

Now Cloud met the other's crimson gaze. "I know I don't want him back so bad just because of Zack, or even because I'd blame myself," he said, and averted his gaze again. "I . . . I'd miss him like crazy. And not knowing anything about where he is right now, or if he's even alive . . . I already miss him."

Vincent gave a slow, nonjudgemental nod. Knowing Cloud, he would feel tremendously embarrassed when all was said and done, and he would hate that he had been so vocal. But this was the best for him.

Sure enough, Cloud turned red, as if suddenly realizing what he had blurted. "I sound like such an idiot," he muttered, going past Vincent. "I can't believe I just said that."

Vincent followed him to the nearest officer, still keeping silent. The policewoman turned as they approached, hearing their footsteps.

"I'm going to go out again," Cloud announced. "Who's going to leave soon?" He would just as soon not go with any police, really, but cooperating with them was the easiest way to get anywhere. And of course he did not want to do anything that might draw further attention to himself and the others. There was already the concern that something would be learned that should have stayed secret.

"I am," the woman responded in her slight Spanish accent. "But Mr. Strife, you don't look like you're in any condition to do anything except sleep."

"I'm fine," Cloud grumbled, the edge coming back into his voice. "Finding Sephiroth is the most important thing."

"To keel over in the middle of the search will not help Mr. Sephiroth," the officer said.

"I've gone longer than this without sleep," Cloud said, in a tone that meant the conversation was ending. "Let's go."

Vincent stepped forward. "How much of the city has been covered by now?" he asked. An interruption would be good. And it _was_ a question for which he wanted to have the answer anyway.

She walked to a chart that had been posted on the wall. "These sectors have been searched extensively," she said, indicating markers at varying parts of the middle and upper class neighborhoods. "We are going by the assumption that this man has somehow gained a good deal of money, perhaps on the black market. In the kitchen, the fridge is empty. And it's completely new." She looked back to him. "Someone in need could not possibly go to these lengths in order to give an illusion of an occupied home."

Cloud nodded his assent. "But the poorer places are being checked too," he said, looking to Vincent. "Zack and Angeal are there somewhere." He clenched a fist. "The guy might not even be in the city!"

"That's why we have an all-points bulletin for the entire county," said the policewoman. Vincent was getting the impression that she was a very no-nonsense sort.

"Isn't there anything else we can do?!" Cloud demanded.

She gave him a hard look. "Not unless we can learn more about this person," she said. "There are not any other records of his existence. He is likely using more than one name."

"There could be a common thread linking the names," Vincent said. "If this is all a game and he wants to lead you on a chase, his other pseudonyms might also be connected to murder."

Cloud's eyes widened. "I need to get in touch with Zack and see if he's had any luck," he said. "And if he hasn't, I should tell him about this." He looked to the officer. "Do a search and see if there's anyone else around here with weird names like that!" he instructed.

She looked displeased at being given an order by a civilian. But she gave a curt nod. "It could take a while," she said. "And I may need people on hand who are proficient in other languages."

"Start with Japanese and go from there," Cloud retorted.

At that moment his cellphone rang. He grabbed it out of his pocket in the next instant. Maybe that was Zack now, calling to check in . . . or even to say that Sephiroth had been found. But the caller ID revealed a new mystery. It was not Zack at all. And whoever it was did not want to be known. All that the ID could say was "Private Name."

He unfolded the device, holding it to his ear. "Hello?" Somewhere in his mind he was aware that his tone was less than congenial. Even he, shy as he was during normal times, had a breaking point. He did not know how much more he could stand.

An electronically disguised voice laughed in his ear. "Time is running out to save your dear friend," it purred.

Cloud's eyes widened. Fire flashed through the blue orbs. This must be Hideki Hitokiri, or whatever his real name really was! It would have to be either him or a lackey, and this person sounded creepy enough to be the top dog.

"Where is he?" he demanded, his voice steady but furious. To his side, Vincent came to attention.

"You haven't figured it out yet?" A clucking sound. "If you don't find him in time, I think I'll leave the body on your doorstep."

It was hard to keep his emotions in control. "How much time have we got?" His voice was a knife cutting through the tense air.

"Oh . . . probably only until the Earth completes its current rotation. Hmm. . . . Or is it a little more or less than that?"

The mock confusion sent Cloud's already-frayed nerves into pieces. "Don't play games!" he snapped.

"Playing games is what I do best!" was the mocking reply. "I'm going to call dear Commander Fair next."

Again Cloud was stunned. "Commander . . . ?!" he repeated. He looked to Vincent in stunned shock. Did this person know about their past on Gaia? Of course the possibility had been considered, but realizing it was the truth was still surprising.

He came to attention as the policewoman stepped forward, holding out a long cord. He took it, plugging its end into his phone without a word. She nodded, then walked back to the console that had been set up earlier. They had wondered if the person might contact someone, and they had prepared in case either the landline or a cellphone was called.

The madman seemed not to know or care that his location was now being traced. "Commander Fair always was a fool, caring so deeply for someone like Sephiroth," he sneered. "But then Shinra people did stick together, didn't they, after they branched off into their own little groups."

"Shut up." Cloud's voice was cold. "We're going to find Sephiroth in time and we're going to bring you down, too."

A cackle. "By all means, try! I would hate to think that SOLDIER and AVALANCHE are losing their touch. But did you really stop Meteor? Or was the story twisted around to make you look so wonderful and skilled when you aren't?"

Cloud's eyes narrowed. That was not even something that needed to be answered. But hopefully the police were not hearing this, or if they were, maybe they would just think it was some kind of unimportant in-joke. It would be very awkward if he had to try to explain without revealing the full truth, especially when he had other, more critical things on his mind.

"You've got too much time on your hands, to set up all of this just to hurt Sephiroth." It was the first thing he could think of to say. Right now he was just stalling until the police could finish tracing the other's location. Otherwise he would just hang up. The guy was not going to tell him anything that he wanted to hear.

"Completely destroying him and his friends is the only thing that matters anymore. Someone such as you could never understand."

No, Cloud really couldn't. Even when he had snapped and his past hatred for Sephiroth had spilled out, he had not been consumed by a desire to see Sephiroth die. During the fight on the roof, he had wanted to beat Sephiroth, but even now he was not sure what he had planned would come after that. The thought that he could have been filled with so much rage that he would have wanted to kill Sephiroth horrified him. After Sephiroth had saved him when he had slipped and fallen over the edge of the roof, he had begun to change--though he had refused to acknowledge it for some time.

"What did Sephiroth do to you that made you hate him so much?" he asked. This was agonizing, trying to keep the creep on the line holding a conversation that he wanted to end. But he could not be impatient. This could be the only way to save Sephiroth.

"What didn't he do?" was the venomous retort. "He took everything from me and left me to rot in a prison! Dying would have been a better fate."

"You should've done it, then," Cloud muttered crossly.

Another laugh. "But then I wouldn't have been able to plot my revenge! For years the thought of it kept me alive and fighting, until at last I was free and ready to begin the assault! I've been watching him for such a long time now."

"Yeah, now you've lost whatever mind you had," Cloud snapped.

"Blame Sephiroth!" the madman cried. "Everything has been his fault."

Cloud gripped the phone tighter, his knuckles going white. "Yeah, say that all you want," he said, "but it sounds like it's your own fault." He knew all about blaming Sephiroth for what had gone wrong. And deep down he had really blamed himself. Sephiroth may have caused many of the tragedies in the past, but Cloud had not been able to stop him, either--not until damage had already been done. And Cloud had not been able to forgive himself for that. It had just been easier to pass the blame and hatred onto his former enemy . . . or so he had thought. It had not worked. He had only poisoned himself with his feelings and had hurt all around him.

Now a vile curse echoed through the phone. Cloud, already having heard all manner of profanity from Cid, did not flinch.

The policewoman abruptly turned, looking to him. She gave a sharp nod, indicating the success of their attempt. Several officers began to stand. The woman mouthed "Keep him on the line" to Cloud.

A wave of frustration passed through him. Would he have to stay behind just talking to this creep, so that his location could continue to be monitored? And so that he might less likely realize that the police were going to come to where he was? Actually, he might be more suspicious if Cloud kept hanging on the line.

"Look, don't you have anything important to say?" Cloud asked.

"Not to you!" was the response. "It's been such fun, but now it's time to call Commander Fair. I may be able to get an even more . . . emotional reaction from him." With that there was a _click._

Cloud made a face, pulling the cord out of his phone and tossing it onto the top of the console. "I can't tell whether he was just tired of talking to me or if he realized what I was doing," he said. He folded up his phone again, placing it in his pocket. "Let's go."

"There's a chance he will call back," the officer frowned in disapproval.

"I don't think so," Cloud said. "At least not for a while."

Vincent nodded. "There wouldn't be any reason for him to call right back." He headed for the door.

Cloud followed, not bothering to look back and see what the policewoman thought of it. Now he was seething all the more. The guy was a bigger nutcase than he had even thought. And what did he mean by Sephiroth only having until the Earth finished its rotation? His stomach knotted. To give such a precise amount of time, was the creep altogether controlling Sephiroth's infirmities? Could he really determine when Sephiroth would die? Was he planning to kill him then, or had the time already been determined by something else . . . like poison?

"Cloud."

He glanced over at Vincent, his eyes questioning.

"We'll find him."

Cloud looked away. "Yeah . . ." he mumbled, pushing open the door, "but what condition will he be in?"

Vincent did not have an answer for that. Cloud had voiced his own thoughts. He was certain that they would find Sephiroth--but that did not mean that there would be a happy ending.

* * *

Green eyes slowly opened, blinking the sleepiness away as they studied the scenery. All that was in view was what looked like a wooden furniture leg and the bottom of a gray metal filing cabinet. A grunt escaped Sephiroth's throat as the full situation began to be processed.

The carpet was pressing against his cheek. He was level with the floor. How had that happened?

He pushed himself to his knees, his hands and arms trembling. Had he swooned? He remembered growing dizzy when he had entered this office on the first floor. Going down the stairs had taken away a lot of the strength he had had left, and he had tried to search other rooms before coming to this one. He had half-stumbled across it before losing his balance. Obviously he was getting worse.

What about the vials? Were they secure? His captor's earlier, taunting remarks were echoing in his mind again, of what would happen if the vials broke. Balancing himself with one hand, he began to feel over his pockets with the other. From what he could tell, the small glass containers were undamaged. He had not fallen directly on top of them.

But another time he might not be so lucky. Telling himself it would not happen again would be foolish. Under these circumstances, he could pass out a second time, and he might as more time slipped away from him. He needed somewhere safe to put the vials where he could get them in an instant.

And yet, where would that be? If he did not keep them on his person, he needed a bag or a case in which to put them, so that he could carry them around with him. He would not trust himself to be separated from them. He might not be able to get back to them if he needed. Or, if he was not alone in this house, they might be taken from his hiding place and concealed elsewhere.

As long as he was still on the floor, he might as well look in the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet. He reached out with his free hand, easing open the drawer as it creaked and growled in protest. Inside were five file folders, none of them appearing especially full.

He pawed through them, his hand still shaking a bit as he went. All of them were empty. He frowned, leaning in closer. There _was_ something written on the tab of each folder, which indicated at first that there had been documents within them. But his eyes quickly narrowed with the realization of the truth.

The first was marked "Autopsy Report." The second, "Death Certificate." And the other three had equally pleasant labels.

He slammed the drawer shut. He was being mocked again. But more than that, he was being shown how much this someone wanted him dead. If the intention was to frighten him, it was not working. He was more disgusted than anything else.

Grasping the handle of the next drawer up, he struggled to kneel in a straighter position as he slid the contents into view. This time the drawer was vacant, save for what looked like a spiderweb that had been started. He closed the drawer in annoyance.

Now he reached up, taking hold of the edge of the desk. He could pull himself up by supporting his weight on it. Behind him, his silver hair swished as he struggled to get his legs to cooperate. They felt wobbly and unwilling to work. But at last he was standing. A sigh escaped his lips as he looked back to the filing cabinet. There were three drawers left.

Out of those three, only one had anything else in it. He blinked in surprise as he opened the top compartment a few moments later and found two empty vials inside. They rolled slightly from the force of the movement, clinking against the metal walls and each other. Then they came to a rest.

Again the frown crossed his features. Was he being mocked further? Or were these something he needed to take, for some reason?

It would be better not to question it. He removed the blank containers, placing them in his pocket.

Above the filing cabinet was another painting. This one depicted a man in the shadows, holding two cups and filling each with a substance. Blue and red gems glittered on the cups.

Sephiroth frowned at it. Was he supposed to pour the contents of the red and blue vials into the empty ones? What would be the purpose of that? Was there a substance in the new containers, perhaps not visible and just coating the inside? If so, that could be the antidote. Or it could be another poison. And it might mean nothing at all. This was becoming more confusing with each painting he found.

It was also all the more disconcerting. Each painting was in the style of a Renaissance artist. They were filled with meticulous detail. Had the madman painted them himself or had he commissioned others? Either way, it showed all the more how much thought and effort had been put into this plan.

Now he turned to better survey the office. But there was not much to see. The desk held only a greenish table lamp with fluorescent light, a stapler, blank paper, and a pen. Still, there were several drawers in it as well. Each one should be searched. Slowly he moved forward, sinking into the chair with relief. Maybe this would ease some of the pressure from his head and the dizziness would fully leave him.

Several moments later he leaned back in irritation. Every one of the compartments in the desk were empty, save for a condescending note in the bottom drawer on the right.

_Better luck next time!_

_If there is one._

He ran a hand over his face. The ill feelings had not subsided, either. Apparently they would linger for the remainder of this farce. And at some point he might collapse again, this time never to rise. He might slip into unconsciousness and then death.

Behind his hand, his frown darkened. Was this anything like the poison Zack had been given many years before? There had been approximately the same amount of time for him. And he had been able to move about at first, even though later he had grown dizzy and delirious and had then been unconscious for the majority of the day. If Sephiroth had not been with him, and no one else had been there to help him, he would not have survived.

He was not delirious--at least not yet--but maybe if this poison did have an odd number of hours to take effect--such as twenty-seven--it would not work in exactly the same way. That did not mean it could not be similar, or even created by the same people. His captor could be a former Wutaian spy or terrorist, for all he would know.

And of course, throughout his search he had been bothered by the chiming of a clock somewhere in the house. He always knew when fifteen minutes had passed, because it would be announced. He had been trying to listen for what each new hour began, since that would indicate how much time he had left, but the last hour he recalled hearing was two in the afternoon. It was surely past that now. How long had he been laying on the floor? Surely not more than a few minutes, or he likely would not have awakened at all.

He removed his hand from his eyes. He had rested long enough. He could not linger more, hoping that the dizziness would go away. He would have to take a chance on leaving the room. If it continued to grow worse, he might have to resign himself to crawling. At least then the vials might not be in as much danger of shattering should he collapse again.

But it was a last resort method. Knowing he was being watched made the thought of crawling even more abhorrent. He did not want to give this madman any more satisfaction from his misery.

Placing his hands on the edge of the desk for support once more, he forced himself to stand. The dizziness rushed back. He shut his eyes, gritting his teeth against the agony.

This would all be over soon, one way or the other. Either the antidote would be found and he would live . . . or he would not find it and he would die.

Or it did not exist in the first place.

A grim smirk passed over his features. Such _encouraging_ thoughts would not help much for most other people. Yet being sarcastic somehow did help him cope at times.

He opened his eyes again. The room was staying still, at least. He turned, taking several steps forward.

What were Zack, Cloud, and Angeal doing? Had they searched the majority of the city by now? Was he even anywhere in or near the city? For that matter, was he still in the state? There was no telling how long he had been unconscious before awakening in that bedroom.

He had to stay alive for them. The thought of them coming and discovering his dead body still haunted him to no end. He would not allow them to be hurt in that way. He would not!

Whoever the person behind this happened to be, he would not have the last laugh.

* * *

Zack was beside himself. For the last hours he and Angeal and some police officers had been combing the bad part of the city, including the warehouses down at the docks. And only a few minutes before, he had received an outrageous call from the man responsible. But nothing of real value had been learned; it seemed that the creep had just wanted to taunt him for a while. And Zack had not been able to keep his cool, either. He should have, but instead he had completely snapped and yelled at the guy for torturing poor Seph. He had only received a cruel cackle and a mocking "I expected such a reaction from the devoted Commander Fair."

At least the people around here were friendly. Some local teenagers, eighteen or so, had heard about the citywide search and had offered to help. They had been gratefully accepted. Zack had spoken with two of them since then, but they had not had any luck, either.

_"But we'll keep lookin', don't worry!"_ one with messy blond hair had reassured, giving a thumbs-up sign.

_"That's right!" _a brown-haired girl had nodded. _"He'll be found and everything will be okay."_

Zack had to keep believing that. He would go crazy if he didn't. But the call from the mastermind had not helped.

"What time is it now?" he demanded of Angeal, shoving his cellphone into his pocket.

"It's almost four." Angeal was grim as he checked his watch.

He had managed, or hoped he had managed, to keep the extent of his worry inside. The last thing he wanted was to make Zack more worried by showing the increasing panic he was feeling. If he could not stay calm, Zack might become fearful that Angeal found the situation hopeless.

Angeal was not certain what he found it, actually--other than inhuman, treacherous, and abominable. Of course he was not giving up hope yet, and he would not unless Sephiroth was found dead, but it was seeming so bleak. If the person wanted Sephiroth to be located, he either was not helping things along or else his clues were so well-hidden that no one could decipher them.

Both of them started as Zack's phone rang again.

"Maybe this time it's good news," Zack said as he took it out. The caller ID screen displayed Cloud's name and number. Quickly Zack unfolded the phone and held it to his ear.

"Zack?"

"Cloud! What's up?" Zack ran his tongue over his lips. "That creep actually had the nerve to call me!"

Cloud grunted in annoyance. "Yeah, he called here too, and said he was going to call you. I was hoping to call first and warn you, but the line was busy when I tried."

"Guess he didn't waste any time." The bitterness had slipped into Zack's tone, but it faded with his next query. "Are you having any luck there?"

"Well, we traced the call," Cloud reported, "and we're going to the place where the signal was coming from. But who knows if we'll find him or Sephiroth. Maybe we'll end up with some more bloodied clothes."

Zack was walking back to the police van as they talked. "Where is it?" he asked. "Me and Angeal'll come right there!"

Cloud gave him the address. "It's some really fancy private neighborhood," he reported. "You know, the kind with all the dumb rules about keeping up your yard and stuff."

"Yeah." Zack nodded. "I know where it is. We've passed it sometimes when we're trying to not get caught up in rush hour traffic, right?"

"I think so. We're halfway there now."

"We'll catch up!" Zack said, his voice firm. "But if you find anything before we do, call and let us know!"

"Right. Okay, we'll see you in a few minutes."

Suddenly thinking of something else, Zack asked, "Have you let the girls know yet? And Cid and Barret?"

There had been exclamations of shock from Cid and Barret when they had been asked to join in a search for Sephiroth. But there had been equally indignant and outraged declarations when they had been told of the circumstances. And they had both said that of course they would do everything they could to bring down that "blankety-blank" no good devil and get Sephiroth back safe. They did not like Sephiroth a great deal, but they knew Cloud and the others did. And in any case, whether or not they liked him was irrelevant in the face of this cruelty.

"Yeah," Cloud answered now. "I called them while I was waiting for your line to free up."

Zack opened the door of the van and climbed in. "How're the kids taking all this?" he wanted to know. His gaze followed Angeal as the older man went to the other side and opened that door. The police officers, having seen them going back, were coming back as well.

"Marlene's still upset that she can't help look," Cloud reported.

Zack gave a weak grin. "Poor kid. Can't have her getting into danger too." He could hear Angeal telling the police officers what was going on and where they needed to go. Apparently he had heard Cloud's side of the conversation as well as Zack's, and that was all the better anyway, so Zack would not need to take time explaining. He grabbed the seatbelt with one hand, pulling it down.

It was touching, really--how devoted Marlene had become to Sephiroth. She had been shy of him at first, not knowing what to think of a man who had been so out of his mind that he had intended to destroy what he had believed was an entire corrupted planet. And she had been upset and angry that he had killed Aerith. But she had swiftly come to see that the sane Sephiroth was not the same man who had done those things, and that he was aching because of his past crimes. And she had begun to love him. Sephiroth was usually amazed and uncomfortable by this, since he believed he was undeserving of such idolization. But Marlene was not deterred. She thought of him as an uncle figure.

Cloud was continuing. "And Denzel . . . he didn't really say much." Denzel was very aloof around Sephiroth, even cold, and every now and then he was actually hostile. Cloud worried about him, especially since he feared that he himself had been a bad influence. He had been very vocal with his irrational and unkind opinions on Sephiroth from several months past. Denzel had no doubt been deeply affected by it. Cloud wondered at times if it was a mistake that could never be rectified. It would sicken him if that was so, particularly if it would have been different had he not given in to his dark feelings.

"Yeah. . . ." Zack bit his lip. He was concerned about Denzel, too. But that was also a problem that would need to wait.

"Well, we're heading off now," he reported. "How far along are you?"

"We're just passing through the gate," Cloud said. "But you know how these places are. It's going to take forever to find the right street. Everything winds everywhere."

"No kidding!" In spite of himself, his mind began to wander. He could remember a time when he, Seph, Cloud, and Angeal had all journeyed to one of those private neighborhoods to investigate some land for sale. It had taken close to an hour before they had even discovered the correct spot. Everyone had been frustrated before the excursion had ended.

The weak grin returned. ". . . Hey, Cloud?"

"What?"

Zack watched the scenery fly past the car window. "Remember when we all got lost in one of those places?"

Cloud snorted. "How could I forget? It was around Christmastime, and you kept pointing out all the decorations and lights saying you wanted to buy them for our place."

Zack snickered. "Yep. . . ." He gave a sad sigh. "I wish we were going to some crazy meeting like that right now."

"Yeah . . . I wish that, too."

Cloud was not able to help the tired and sad tones that slipped into his voice. And hearing them only made a larger lump sneak into Zack's throat.

"Ugh, I forgot," Cloud grumbled then. "Vincent had an idea that maybe this guy is using several fake names, all connected with death or killing or something. I was going to run it past you and then I didn't think of it again until just now."

Zack blinked. "Hey, that might be true!" he exclaimed. "Are the police looking into that?"

"They are," Cloud said. "I told them to start with Japanese. Maybe Angeal could give some suggestions of stuff to look for?"

"I'll ask him!" Zack declared. "And you could find out what name was used to buy the house we're going to."

"Yeah. That should tell us something."

Suddenly there was a screeching of brakes. Zack turned pale as the sound continued, gradually diminishing to a halt. For an eternity there was silence. Had something else happened? Was Cloud hurt now, too? There had not been a crash, at least, so maybe he was still okay. He had to be!

"Oh God . . ."

Cloud's voice was tortured, almost sounding strangled. Zack had not thought it would be possible for his stomach to twist any more than it already had, but now it was proving him wrong.

"Cloud?!" he cried. "What's wrong?! Are you hurt!?" He swallowed hard. "Do . . . do you see Seph?" He wanted to know the answer, and yet when it came right down to it, he was not sure if he could bear to hear it.

"I'm fine. . . ." The sound of a car door slammed. "I . . . we must've found the house. This police officer is driving and she had to throw on the brakes because there was something in the road . . ."

"Is it Seph?!" Zack wailed. At his side, Angeal tensed, his eyebrows furrowing.

"I . . . I thought it was at first." Cloud gripped the phone so tight it was in danger of breaking. "It's a dummy." His voice hardened without warning. "It's a dummy all dressed up to look like Sephiroth, with a long silver wig and dark pants. . . . Fake blood's everywhere. It's like some sick Halloween prank!"

_"What?!"_ Now Zack's eyes were flashing with outrage. There were no words appropriate for this.

A strong hand came down on his shoulder. Angeal leaned forward, speaking into the phone. "We'll be there soon," he said, the anger obvious in his voice. "Be careful."

"We will be," Cloud answered, "but I'm getting the feeling the creep's run out on us again. He probably left this as a parting gift."

"I'll give _him_ a parting gift," Zack threatened, at last finding his voice.

Cloud was silent for a moment. "And Zack?" Now he sounded even more disturbed than before.

"What now?" Zack demanded.

". . . I think these pants really might be Sephiroth's."

Zack gave a rare curse. "Then what's Seph wearing?!"

"I wish I knew." Cloud straightened up from the dummy, looking towards the house. Two officers who had run in first were now coming back out, both looking grim.

"There could be something we've missed," said the first, "but our preliminary check didn't find anyone inside."

Cloud clenched a fist. "That figures." The last remaining bit of hope he had held for this location crumbled.

It was hard to know whether he wanted to scream, cry, punch something, or all three.


	4. We'll Search For Tomorrow

**Notes: Many thanks to Kaze for plot help! Also, a small part of this chapter was inspired by the 31 Days theme **_**You know that ghost is me**_**, even though this was not finished in enough time to be posted at the community.**

* * *

**Chapter Four**

_**We'll Search For Tomorrow**_

It was not long afterwards when Zack and Angeal arrived with the officers who had been accompanying them. The dummy was still laying in the road, limp and broken. Yellow "Do Not Cross" tape was all around its perimeter, twisting and waving in the breeze. One officer was taking a picture of the creation as the van came to a stop.

Zack could only stare at the sight. Now he was chilled to the bone. From a distance the figure really did resemble Seph, sprawled and hurt and helpless. Only as he leaped out and drew closer could he really tell that it was and always had been inanimate.

His heart thumped in his chest. Never before had they dealt with a villain who operated with these cruel and unthinkable methods. Not even Dalton would stoop this low--though he was not sure that he could say the same for Gunju Rakesh. Gunju would likely delight in causing such anguish. But the person on the phone had not seemed to be either him or Azazel. The speech pattern did not fit. Nor the talk of being in prison. Gunju had killed himself before he would have arrived at such a fate, and Azazel had gone missing and had been presumed dead.

The officer snapping the picture straightened up, glancing in Zack's direction. "We're dealing with a real sicko," he said.

Zack shook his head. That was obvious without saying anything. "Isn't there any way to tell how long that's been setting out here?!" he burst out. "It couldn't have been long--Cloud was just talking to the guy before coming here! The neighbors should've seen something! They have all these rules here, don't they?! How could nobody notice something like that?!" He pointed at the wretched thing, his hand trembling.

The policeman could only shake his head. "No one called to report it," he said. Even so, the neighbors had been peering out their windows ever since the police had came. They had not realized anything was amiss, and now they were both curious and concerned. There had not been any crime in their subdivision before now, and judging from the sheer amount of cars and people, they knew that something was seriously wrong. But in case there was the danger of a criminal right in the area, no one was willing to venture out of their homes.

"Well, they're sure getting curious now!" Zack said, turning and looking right at someone staring out a window. Realizing he had been caught, the person vanished, the curtain swishing back into place. Zack crossed his arms in annoyance.

"What's happening inside?" Angeal asked, coming up beside Zack.

"I don't know," the officer said. "I was checking out the yard. I think they're all doing a thorough search of the inside of the house, checking for panels, that sort of thing. But this is a new place, so I don't think they'll find anything like that."

Zack turned, running to the stairs and the porch without another word. His raven spikes slapped against the back of his neck and his face as he bounded up the steps two at a time and dashed through the open door. As he skidded to a stop, his eyes widened in shock and disbelief.

The layout of the living room was exactly the same as the previous house, despite the larger space. Police were milling around, dusting for fingerprints and taking pictures, but no one seemed very hopeful. The sight of the identical floor plan was making all of them feel that they would not have any more luck here than at the first house.

Zack did not wait to find out what Angeal thought about this new bizarre twist. Instead he tore past the police, peering into the kitchen at more officers before finding the staircase and again leaping up to a second floor. In the other house, Seph's shirt had been on the bathroom linoleum. Would something else be up here? Or was the dummy the only sign that had been left by this madman? Not that it was not more than enough.

He blinked in surprise to find Cloud and Vincent gazing at a grandfather clock in the upstairs hall. Cloud's arms were crossed, a frustrated frown gracing his features. Vincent's expression was impassive.

"Hey!" Zack exclaimed. "What's going on?"

Cloud looked over at him. "I was just thinking about that message on Sephiroth's shirt again," he said, "that stupid 'tick-tock' thing. What if these clocks have something to do with figuring stuff out? This one looks just like the other one."

Vincent nodded. "They both look old," he said. "One of the police officers thinks they're antiques, made by a specific clock maker who used to live around here."

Zack stared, attempting to process this information. "So how would that help?" he frowned. "Is there some kind of secret code stuck in them?"

"It wouldn't hurt to check," Cloud said, reaching to pull back the glass door over the face of the clock.

By now Angeal was coming up the steps as well. His eyes narrowed in confusion as he watched Cloud pawing at the face of the timepiece, while Zack was bending down to open the door to the pendulum area and Vincent was tinkering with the back.

"And this will help, how?" he asked.

"Dunno!" Zack replied, holding the pendulum to one side with one hand while feeling around the floor and inside walls of the clock with the other.

"It probably won't," Cloud muttered.

Zack squinted into the space, attempting to look beyond the weights at something he could see engraved into the wood. "It almost looks like somebody autographed the thing," he announced. "'J - L - E'?"

"So we need to see if the other clock has that, too," Angeal deduced.

"There's a nameplate on the back," Vincent said. "'Jeremy Laurence Evans, Nineteen-Oh-One.'"

Zack blinked. "This town existed way back then?" he exclaimed.

Cloud shrugged. "It was a lot smaller then, but yeah," he said.

Angeal looked over the clock with appraising eyes. "If there's nothing hidden inside, how are these clocks going to be useful?" he frowned.

"We need to find out what places in this area have been selling these clocks," Vincent said.

Cloud stepped back, the frustration showing on his face. "So we get to go window-shopping for these things?" he muttered.

"If we could get a copy of the delivery invoice when the timepieces were purchased, it might help," Vincent told him. "He could have used another name, or there could be another address to investigate."

Zack straightened up, placing his hands on his hips. "It is pretty weird, that all the furniture looks new except these clocks," he observed. "If there is something to it, we need to find what it is!" Considering the message in blood, he was willing to try out the idea that the antique clocks could be a clue. But if it was another false lead, what were they going to do? Time was running out, and Seph might be laying somewhere, struggling to stay alive. . . . Zack looked away, the lump in his throat growing stronger.

He had been so panic-stricken when Seph had been hurt in that fire at Wutai. While Zack had been looking for him, the people had turned him away, refusing to help him because of hatred or superstitions. And once Zack had learned of it, he had feared almost constantly for Sephiroth's safety. The man had been half-dead then, struggling to walk and finally to crawl somewhere for help. Zack had not known how long he would last. He had not located Seph until hours later, when he had been found at the palace alive and warm and with his wounds mending. This time, with Seph being held somewhere by a madman, there was no hope that he would receive kindness unless he could get away. And that was not looking likely. They certainly could not afford to depend on it.

"We should be able to find out about the stores with an Internet search," Angeal said, breaking into Zack's memories. "I'll go talk to the police about it."

Zack gave a shaky nod. "Let's do that!" he agreed.

As Angeal turned to descend the stairs again, a sensation slammed into his heart. _There are only a few hours left._ It was strange, to have known and yet not fully comprehended what that would entail . . . until now. He had been aware, as all of them had, that Sephiroth might die. But now the responsibility was sinking onto his shoulders, despite his best efforts to stay detached for his sanity's sake. He and Sephiroth had only reestablished their friendship several months ago. And he had never thought that something might separate them again so soon.

He gripped the banister as he hurried down the steps. Was he starting to lose confidence that Sephiroth would be saved? They had just gotten a possible clue, however weak it looked. He should be hopeful about its resolution. But if this failed, too, then there might not be any hope left.

And that was something none of them could bear.

His eyes narrowed. The responsibility was on all of them, not him alone. He was starting to become like Sephiroth--accepting teamwork yet being and feeling isolated. Sephiroth almost always deliberately distanced himself. That was the only way he could keep himself sane, not burden the others, and satisfy his pride at the same time.

But actually, they were probably all behaving in that same way tonight--or at least Zack and Cloud as well as Angeal. They were all acting like Sephiroth. And all of them were in need of comfort.

Yet, what comfort could they have without it feeling unrealistic? They knew they might find Sephiroth alive. And they also knew they might not.

Angeal came to attention as he, with the others in tow, arrived at the bottom. The nearest police officer looked up, questions in her eyes.

"Have you found anything?" she asked. She bore a decided resemblance to the curt officer who had seemed to be the leader of the investigation. But unlike her, this woman seemed sympathetic and congenial.

Zack blinked at this but did not comment. There were other mysteries at hand.

"We need to use a laptop, if somebody's still got one around here!" he declared.

Angeal nodded. "We might have a break, but it's too soon to tell yet," he said. "We need to find all the dealers who sell antique longcase clocks made by Jeremy Laurence Evans."

A brief look of surprise passed over her face, but it vanished. "Oh, so he's the culprit who made them," she said, gesturing for them to follow her as she led them to a laptop sitting on the kitchen table. "I should have guessed it."

Cloud raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

She rolled her finger across the touchpad, bringing up the login screen. After typing in a username and password and accessing the desktop, she stepped aside to allow Angeal to take control. Then she looked back to Cloud.

"His clocks played a part in another case," she said. "It was so long ago I doubt it would have any bearing here, but it's odd, anyway."

"What was it?" Zack asked. The sound of Angeal's typing filled the background.

She frowned. "It was a series of serial murders," she said. "A clock was at the site of each one."

"Was there any point to it?" Cloud watched her, disturbed again.

"We wondered," she replied. "At first we couldn't find a connection. But then we realized that each of the victims had been involved with clocks in some way. One of them had repaired the clock in the bell tower of city hall. Another had owned a watch shop. A third had tried to find someone to fix an old table clock of his grandmother's."

"Did you catch the guy?!" Zack exclaimed.

She shook her head. "He committed suicide after the third murder," she said.

Angeal scanned over the results of his search query. "How long ago was this?" he asked.

"Five years," she told him.

Cloud's eyes narrowed. He had thought that after their own memories had been restored, the general Earth population's memories had been adjusted to realize that Jenova Corp had only been around for a few months, as opposed to the five years they had originally thought. It was all some kind of weird magic that he preferred to not question. Sephiroth, who had inadvertently caused their uprooting, did not understand it himself.

Still, Cloud could not help but wonder whether this psycho had appeared several months ago, around the same time as Jenova Corp, instead of what would really be five years ago. It did not seem like the events could possibly be connected, and yet the time period and the involvement of the clocks would fit with Jenova Corp and their current calamity. Or maybe he was just being paranoid. After all, this past creep was dead. And the current creep just wanted Sephiroth, unless he was planning to go on to kill everyone connected with him, too.

"I'm only finding two places that sell those clocks," Angeal announced, pointing at the screen. "And one of them closes in about five minutes."

The policewoman pulled out her phone, tapping in the number. "I'm sure we can arrange for them to stay open a bit longer," she said.

Cloud nodded. They had better. It would be just their luck if that was the place they needed and they were not able to get in. Subconsciously a fist clenched.

The jangling of his cellphone drew him back to the present. Immediately he pulled it out and unfolded it. "Yeah?" he greeted, not even bothering with Hello.

"Yo! You found him yet?" Barret's gruff voice crackled over the speaker.

"No." Cloud tried to listen for any indication of what Barret's news was, if anything, but nothing was apparent. "What's going on there?"

"Nothin' much here." Barret cursed. "We did find somethin', though. It looks like his wallet."

Cloud gripped the phone tighter. "Where was that?!" he demanded. Zack and Angeal snapped to attention at his tone.

"Out by that first house, kickin' around by the alley in the back. It'd been hid among the weeds."

"Is anything missing from it?" Cloud asked.

"Dunno what he had in it," Barret retorted. "Money's still here . . . his ID card . . . bank card. . . ."

"That's weird that the police didn't find it," Cloud frowned.

"Yeah. Maybe some of you oughtta come up here."

"We were going to check out something else," Cloud said. "We'll split up."

Barret had been speaking so loud that already Zack and Angeal had heard. As Cloud hung up, they were debating between themselves and Vincent on who should go where.

"Why don't you go with Vincent, Angeal?" Zack suggested.

Angeal blinked in surprise. "That's fine," he said. "We'll go back to that house and look around again."

Vincent nodded his consent, not seeming surprised at all.

Zack grinned. "Great!" he said. "And me and Cloud'll check out the clock places."

"We'll call if we find out anything," Cloud said. He gave Zack a curious and suspicious look. Zack had deliberately wanted to set it up in this way. Maybe he wanted to talk to Cloud. If he had noticed that Cloud had been acting odd, then he would definitely want to. Even though he was so worried about Seph, he would also worry about Cloud. Especially since Cloud was terrible at hiding his feelings.

* * *

Sephiroth gripped the edge of the doorframe, his hands and arms trembling. It was almost impossible at this point to keep himself upright. The room was shifting and rocking again, more violent and insistent than before. He stared down at the floor, breathing heavily.

In his other hand he gripped the last two vials--the second red and blue. At least, he assumed they were the last. Maybe he was putting too much stock in the paintings. In case they were the clues to his salvation, he could not ignore them. The last painting, above the final vials' location, had shown the same scene from the first art, only with the dignitary leaning back in contentment and satisfaction. Either he had not drunk poison after all, or he had found the antidote. Or perhaps it had no meaning except to taunt Sephiroth.

What if he was supposed to combine the red and the blue labeled vials? That would explain the empty ones, and the mysterious purple gem in the first painting would make sense. But by now, was he even well enough to do that? It would be better to wait for the illness to pass, but this time it might not. He had started feeling this way again before reaching the drawer with the last containers, and it had only gotten worse instead of better. Even now, as he was struggling to support himself on the wall, he was only feeling more sick and weak.

"Oh poor Sephiroth," sneered the voice. "It's taken you all day to collect these vials. And now will you even be able to do anything with them? I wonder if I gave you the correct amount of time earlier. Maybe it was only eighteen hours or less."

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed more. It was certainly feeling as though time was growing short. But as the poison took further effect, he would surely become far more ill than he was right now. And since it was not going away, he was going to have to straighten up and force himself to go on in spite of it. Up ahead was another bedroom. He could try mixing the red and the blue on the desk and then maybe lay on the bed. There was no guarantee that this would even work. He might be falling into another trap, further destroying his life. But there was no choice.

He continued to clutch the doorframe as he rose to his full height. There was no need to continue conversing with the voice, either. That would take energy that he needed to conserve, and he would only be delighting the madman by playing another of his games.

He took a step forward, then another. The room was still rocking. But the path was clear. If he closed his eyes and kept walking straight, he should not bump into anything. The desk was just ahead of him in the room he was entering.

He shut his eyes, gathering his strength. He had to clear his thoughts and focus. It was a lesson that had been learned before he had ever entered the military. He had trained himself to block out all distractions and concentrate during his childhood, when he had been experimented on by Hojo. It was one of the things that had only made Hojo more fascinated. But it had also kept Sephiroth sane and strong for many years.

Here was the leg of the desk. He opened his eyes, shakily placing the vials on the smooth surface. There was not a chair he could use. Was that one other way to torment and mock him, forcing him to stand up while attempting to administer the antidote? He might lose his balance and spill the contents everywhere when trying to pour them into the empty containers. That might even be what his captor was hoping would happen.

He gritted his teeth. He would have to make certain it did not. Whether he felt like he could manage was irrelevant. He _had_ to manage.

"Oh, you're ignoring me now? Such a rude general."

Sephiroth reached into his pockets, taking out the other vials plus the wrapped syringe he had discovered in another location. Setting them all on the desk, he picked up the nearest blue labeled container. It was closed by using a cork, as was the case with the others as well. Would he be able to pull it out without anything escaping from the top? He might have to use so much force that a spill would be unavoidable.

Though it would be wisest to open the empty ones first, since there was not a place to set the full ones upright. He set the blue labeled one down again, picking up the lighter vial.

Grasping the cork with his thumb and forefinger, he pulled. Either he was not as weakened as he felt or the cork had not been shoved in too tight, as it popped out with ease and a sound that echoed through the container. The process repeated for the other vacant one.

Now he picked up the blue labeled one again. How much was he supposed to mix, exactly? A half in an empty one, saving the other half in the original? Another irritating mystery on which he would only be able to guess. Why were there two reds and blues and two empty containers? Either one set of the colors was unnecessary, or one of the empty vials was only an extra. Or maybe he was supposed to mix both sets of red and blue. That would account for having two extra vials instead of one. But wouldn't using all of both reds and blues be too much?

His mind was clouding over further. Usually he was quite expert at math and it did not bother him, but now it was the utmost annoyance.

He looked back to the filled vial. To open this one he began to wiggle the cork back and forth, easing it out without causing commotion to the contents. And the strain was bothering his eyes. Now he was feeling all the more ill and dizzy. But he gritted his teeth. His hands were shaking again, yet he had to find some way to do this. He had to be extremely careful when he balanced the vials to pour. To lose any of the substance could be fatal. If the correct dosage was already available, then even a few drops less might still mean he would die.

Setting down the cork, he picked up the empty vial and held it next to the other. Slowly he began to tip the full container to the side while keeping the edges touching, watching as the liquid began to fall into the new vessel. It was almost impossible to hold his arms steady. But somehow he managed to keep them firm enough so that nothing spilled. He might not be as lucky the next time.

When each vial was half-full, he tipped the first one upright again. Now he had a problem. With no way to prop the glass containers upright on the desk, he would need to hold both of them in one hand while corking them with the other. And it was quite amazing that his equilibrium had lasted this long. Balancing them both in one hand would not be a dilemma at all if he was feeling well, but in his current state it was liable to be a disaster.

Setting his jaw, he slid the container in his left hand as far back as it would go while still holding on to it. Then he brought the other one over to where he could grasp it, too. His fingers took hold, but he could not feel relief yet. From the way his hand was trembling, if he managed to keep hold of them this time, he would not be able to chance it again. Maybe if he opened the desk drawer just enough to slip in a vial and place it upright, it would be suspended there for at least the moment he needed.

He grabbed up one of the corks, placing it in a vial's opening and pushing it down as hard as he dared. Then he took the sealed container from his dominant hand, laying it on the desk. It was much easier to cork the second vessel.

But there was still more he needed to do. Somehow he had to now pour the red in as well. And then he had to decide what to do about the second set of red and blue.

"It's so interesting to watch you try to save yourself, Sephiroth. You always were so logical, paying such attention to the smallest details. After all, that's how you solved our mystery before, when you determined my guilt in the incident."

His eyes narrowed. That did not help much in determining this person's identity. He always had solved the mysteries by observing what seemed to be the most unimportant clues.

He grabbed for the red. At the same moment an immense wave of vertigo swept over him. He shut his eyes, beginning to sink to one knee without his permission. He could not stand up any longer. If he did not rest, he would probably swoon again--if it was not already imminent. He shuddered, his shoulders shaking as he hunched over the top of the desk.

He could not give up yet. If he could not stand, maybe he could kneel to do the rest.

Green eyes opened. He would do that. It was his last hope.

This time he grabbed for one of the half-full vials. His hands and arms were still trembling, but using the desk as support did help somewhat. Pulling out the cork, he opened the drawer just enough so that he could slip in the container. It would stay held in place while he undid the seal on one of the red vessels. Then it would hopefully remain balanced while he poured in some of the other liquid. It did not look like he would be able to hold both of them at once anymore, even in different hands.

Carefully he wriggled it downward into position. The desk drawer slid open a minuscule amount of space at the action. Holding the vial, Sephiroth pushed the drawer back in again so that the grip would be tight. As he released his grasp, the vessel remained upright as he had wanted, never wavering from its position.

He reached over, taking up the red he had grabbed before. Its cork was determined to be stubborn. He gritted his teeth, tugging and pulling and wiggling the annoyance back and forth with all his might. Either it was too big for the container, or the pressure from inside was sucking it in for some reason. Maybe the other one would be more sensible.

Setting down the first, he looked over the remaining containers for the second red one. His vision was blurring again. The colors were doubling, shifting out of focus. He shut his eyes, leaning on the desk as he massaged them with three fingers. He might even mix the wrong thing if this continued.

Pulling back his hand, he dared to open his eyes halfway. Everything was still blurred, but at the moment nothing had a twin. It looked like the other red labeled vessel was to his right. He closed his fist around it, drawing it to him. Yes, there was the red mark.

He would have to steel himself for a possible battle with the cork. Gripping it, he began to pull. At first it would not budge. But then it popped without warning, sending several drops splashing on the black shirt. Green eyes narrowed in frustration. If he would need every drop for it to be a complete and useful antidote--providing it was one to begin with--then he was now out of luck. Still, he would have to keep doing the best he could.

Turning his attention back to the vial in the drawer, he brought the new one to its side and began to tilt it. The substance started to run into the other glass container. But now he was not able to see how high it was rising. He could only guess from the amount remaining in the one with which he was pouring. It looked like it had been about half now. He turned it upright again.

Though, how was he going to account for the missing drops? Should he put in a bit more than half? With the combined substances, already he would have two full vials. That seemed a preposterous amount, to say nothing of the other set. If he overdosed, then even something meant to help him would harm him. Was the madman counting on him being so unalert that he would do exactly that? Then he would still be able to make it look like Sephiroth had killed himself. Maybe that had been the plan all along.

He forced the cork back into the red container before reaching for the syringe. He would only use the contents of one vial, at least at first. If he started feeling better, yet could tell he was not fully recovering, he could finish combining the red and blue in the second vial. And if he began to feel worse after only the one vial, then who knows. He might not even be able to finish the second.

"Hmm. . . . Are you sure you want to do that? You might end up killing yourself with that concoction."

His eyes narrowed as he began to peel away the plastic wrapping. It could be true; it could be the green that was what he should use, if any. The painting clues had pointed to the act of mixing the blue and the red, but there was no guarantee they could be trusted. The clues may have been an elaborate set-up to cause him to make the wrong choice. He had wondered briefly about the possibility of the green, but had dismissed it.

He could not listen to this outlandish nonsense. He had to trust himself. And yet, how sound could his judgement be, when it was based on the clues around the house? Clues that his captor had invented?

Something caught out of the corner of his eye caused him to turn towards the left side of the desk. Then he could only stare, turning pale.

A boy was standing in front of him, his arms crossed and one eye closed in disdain. He was wearing a navy blue jacket, open to reveal a white shirt, and black pants. His hair went past his shoulders, but not by much. Long bangs framed his face. He did not speak. But it was not necessary; his expression was quite clear.

This was impossible. So now the delirium was coming on in full force. And it had picked something astonishing to signal its arrival. He had expected to see maybe Zack or Cloud or Angeal, or even a hated enemy such as Hojo or Jenova. But not this.

Perhaps it had been brought on by his own subconscious, telling him to stop doubting himself. He needed to stay with what he had determined was correct.

He looked back to the vial being supported by the desk drawer. Lowering the needle into the substance, he began to fill the syringe with it. There was not anything to sterilize his skin before plunging the needle through it, but he would have to deal with it. Hopefully it was the least of his concerns.

Now the syringe was full. Removing it from the now-empty vessel, he held it with the needle pointing upward, releasing the pressure just enough to allow any possible air bubbles to escape. His sleeves were already rolled back, as they had been when he had first awakened in this nightmare. And there was not a point in hesitating any longer. He pushed the needle into his arm, releasing the fluid into his system. If he had not made the correct choice, he would know soon.

Such as right now. His vision exploded into pandemonium, colors and stars replacing his view of the room. He sank backwards to the floor, the needle slipping from his grasp. It could just be the shock of the antidote entering his body. On the other hand, he may have just injected himself with more deadly poison. His heart was pounding in his ears.

He could not die. Even if his fate had been sealed from the beginning of this experience, he would have to defy it. He could not die. Not now, not like this. . . .

Maniacal laughter broke through the pounding in his head. "Goodbye, dear Sephiroth. Good luck and goodbye."

He could not even manage a grunt of displeasure and anger.

And before his vision faded altogether, he was able to observe one final thing.

The boy was gone.

* * *

The first thing Cloud noticed upon entering the shop was that everything was _ticking._ All around him, from every angle, it was just ticking and more ticking. And then the chiming started. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. This was the last place he would ever want to work. He would go crazy before the end of the first day on the job.

And the conversation he and Zack had just had on the way over was still playing in his mind. For the first couple of minutes they had driven in silence. Once Zack had been assured that Cloud would not speak, he had spoken.

_"Okay. Something's bothering you, buddy, and I don't think it's just what's bothering all of us. There's something else, too."_

_Cloud looked away. He had expected that question since Zack had set them up to investigate together. And it was still not something he wanted to discuss. They had taken their own car, following a police vehicle, but privacy was not part of the issue.  
_

_"I'm just worried about him," he mumbled._

_"Cloud . . ." Zack's hand came down on the younger man's shoulder. "Did you think Seph wrote that note?"_

_Cloud stiffened. How did Zack do that? How did he always manage to see what was going on in his friends' heads? Did it have something to do with him having spent close to four years as a ghost? Or was it just a natural talent?_

_"No," he said, his tone still lowered, "not really." He looked over at Zack from the passenger seat. "I just . . . I panicked. I wondered if I just hadn't known him as well as I thought, and if he could have really tried to . . . t-to do that . . . and it would be my fault. . . ." Now he was just babbling. He looked away again, red beginning to spread across his cheeks._

_"Oh wow. Hey . . ." Zack parked the car in front of the shop, then turned to look at Cloud again. His eyes were nothing but compassionate. "If Seph'd hid something like that from us, how could any of us have known? He's really good at it, you know. And really . . ." He gripped the steering wheel with one hand. "If that'd happened, I'd be blaming myself."_

_Cloud looked back to him, alarm in his eyes. "It wouldn't be your fault!" he cried._

_"It wouldn't be yours, either!" Zack returned._

_Cloud frowned again. ". . . Isn't it wrong, to even wonder it if you really know it isn't true?" he said. He stared out at the waning sun. "I mean . . . it just seems so unfair to Sephiroth. I know he and I are still getting to know each other, but I should already know him better than that!" He undid his seatbelt, thrusting it over his shoulder._

_Zack took off his own seatbelt, then brought his hand to rest on the door handle. ". . . I couldn't help but wonder myself," he said quietly._

_Now Cloud looked to him in shock, his eyes widening. _Zack_ had wondered? Zack, Sephiroth's closest friend? He had not acted as though he had been in doubt. Cloud had not thought Zack would ever consider the idea that Sephiroth could have written the note._

_"You've gotta wonder, really, even if it's just for a few minutes," Zack said, a sad smile passing over his features. "You don't wanna think that maybe he really was so tortured and you didn't know it . . . but the thought keeps coming back anyway."_

_Cloud swallowed hard. "I . . . I thought you'd figure you knew him better than that," he said, his voice dropping._

_"We do, don't we? Even if we can't help worrying sometimes." Zack started to open the door. "Come on, let's see what we can do to save our pal." He managed an encouraging grin._

_A faint smile passed over Cloud's features as he got out as well._

The police were already inside the clock shop. As Cloud watched, they spoke with the man at the counter, explaining in detail of the situation. Zack hurried over to listen, letting the officers do the talking as he leaned on the glass counter. Cloud walked up beside him, idly glancing at the timepieces inside the case.

"So you're thinking one of my customers ran off with this Mr. Sephiroth person?" the older man frowned, his bushy gray eyebrows knitting together. "And using Jeremy Evans' prize clocks in this madness?!"

"That's right!" Zack broke in. "The creep's been calling us, and we can't track down where he has Seph. We keep going to all these empty places where there's these clocks."

One of the officers nodded. "We've also been finding bloodied clothing belonging to the victim. This man is extremely dangerous. If you can show us the invoices of the people who have purchased these antique clocks recently, you would be doing us an immense service. And it could very well save a man's life."

"There's just one invoice," the shopkeeper grumped. "I thought it was strange at the time. He bought four longcase clocks from me. _Four!_ And he didn't seem to really care about their artistry. He just insisted that they all had to be made by the same person, and something old and rare that'd stand out. So I had to recommend Mr. Evans' work in the interest of being a good businessman." He walked through a doorway leading to a back office, pulling open a drawer in a filing cabinet. "I can't stand to think of those clocks being desecrated by something like this." Finding the folder he wanted, he lifted it out and walked back into the store area.

Zack shifted in impatience as the folder was brought to the police. He peered over the nearest one's shoulder, trying to see.

"He used a different name, alright," grunted the first policeman. "Seki Isamu." He spit it out in disgust. "'Isamu' means courageous warrior or something like that. Who does this guy think he is?!"

"He's nothing but a coward," the second officer growled.

Zack's blood boiled at the new pseudonym. He had definitely gotten the impression on the phone that the creep believed himself to be doing a good thing. And that outraged Zack. Once they found him, he would be lucky if Zack would leave him alive and in one piece.

His gaze traveled to the addresses. Sure enough, there were four. Two of them were the ones they had been to already. The others were new. And he was already starting to memorize the other two. No sense wasting time. The police would probably keep the invoice, and Zack wanted to be able to get right to the places without having to ask them.

"One of these places is in the best part of town," Cloud remarked, studying the paper as well. "And the other one's out of the city, right up by the mountains."

"Seph's gotta be at one of them!" Zack cried. "Let's get out of here and go there right now!" His panic was again beginning to overwhelm him. Seph had to be at one or the other of the new addresses . . . but what if he was not? That could not be considered unless it happened. He turned, running to the door.

Cloud nodded to the shop owner as he moved to follow. Imaginary cotton, forming from his nervousness, began to take hold in his throat. Now they had new leads. And even though he knew he should not get up his hopes, it was already happening. This time they had to find Sephiroth. They had to!

"'Seki Isamu'?!" Zack abruptly yelped from the sidewalk. Through the glass door Cloud could see him skitter to a stop, turning to look back at the shop in growing horror. The blond man hurried to catch up to him.

"What's wrong?" he gasped, pushing open the door and stepping outside.

Zack shook his head. "I think I've just figured out who the guy is," he exclaimed, "but I don't know how to tell the police. I mean, how do I get around the fact that Seph and I knew him because we were on another world?!"

Then he turned again, running to the car. "Nevermind!" he said. "Cloud, get in! We've gotta get to these addresses right now!" He had it unlocked in a moment and was almost leaping inside. Something had struck him as wrong ever since he had heard the name, but at first he had been more occupied by the addresses. As he had left, however, the name had kept running through his mind until it clicked.

Cloud gawked at Zack's actions of half-flying into the car. But this was not a time to be wondering about that, either. He ran over, hauling open the passenger side door as he climbed inside.

Zack was already starting the engine. The vehicle suddenly shot forward, sending both occupants crashing back against the seats.

Cloud gripped the doorhandle for support, but not before making certain that the door was locked. "So who is the guy?!" he cried, daring to reach up for his seatbelt with his other hand. "You can tell me, right?"

"He's a real nasty creep Seph and I got locked away in prison," Zack said. "Get Angeal on the phone and put it on Speaker. I'll explain everything."

Cloud swallowed the cotton. Zack rarely used that tone.

Suddenly he was even more afraid for Sephiroth.

And he had not thought it possible.


	5. Meeting and Parting

**Notes: Many thanks to Kaze and Lisa for plot help, including Kaze's help with Barret and Cid's first lines in this chapter!**

* * *

**Chapter Five**

_**Meeting and Parting**_

Angeal's eyes narrowed as he hung up with Zack and Cloud several minutes later. What Zack had told him and the others was a tale of a highly disturbed man, willing to do anything to obtain his goals and considering himself to be in the right no matter who died. Zack was now convinced that this madman had taken Sephiroth. And Angeal could see that it was possible.

So far they had not found anything else at the first house or the surrounding area. It was looking as though the wallet had just not been discovered earlier and had probably dropped when Sephiroth had been dragged from here--if indeed he had been at this location. Some of the police would remain to continue the search, but now it seemed more expedient for Angeal and the others to go to the new addresses Zack had given.

Barret turned away from the scene in frustration. "The police are sayin' that Sephiroth might already be dead," he said.

"What the heck?! He's come out of bigger messes than this!" Cid retorted.

Barret nodded. "Yeah. It took all of us to take him down on Gaia, and that was when he was nuts! Some two-bit crook ain't gonna do him in now."

"I'll feel insulted if he croaks from this!" Cid agreed.

"It sounds like it's more than a 'two-bit' criminal," Vincent inserted, his tone flat.

"Well, whatever," Cid said with an impatient wave of his hand. "Two-bit crooks, terrorists, we can handle 'em!"

Angeal shook his head, moving past them as he headed for the car. "I'm going to the address Zack mentioned that's in the rich neighborhood," he said. "That's not too far from here."

Vincent nodded, moving past Barret and Cid to follow. "Let's try there first. If we don't have any luck, we can call Zack and Cloud." He glanced back to the others. "Are you coming?"

"You think we'd miss the action?" Cid exclaimed, hurrying to catch up.

"You're not goin' anywhere without us!" Barret asserted, following too.

Vincent's tattered cape swirled out behind him as they walked to the car. It had certainly been drawing attention. Cid had ceased to be Yazoo's manager after regaining his memories--though Yazoo had stopped singing as well--but Vincent had opted to keep his occupation as a medical doctor. It had seemed somewhat ironic, to be saving lives instead of taking them--as he had as a Turk--or instead of feeling responsible for Lucrecia's fate, but it was not a bad change. Perhaps it was part of his redemption. At least that was how he chose to see it.

The police who had seen him at the hospital were now undoubtedly confused by this "second life" of his. He had brought along everything he had thought he might need for this venture, including his claw and his gun. He was an intimidating figure if one did not know him--or if those he was encountering were enemies. And the monster they were tracking down now was the very worst kind of nemesis.

Though Vincent did not show it, he was concerned. Sephiroth would cling to life as long as he possibly could. But realistically, he did have his limits. And he needed to be located without further delay.

* * *

The house they arrived at several moments later was three visible levels and a basement. The porch was small--no more than a slight square area carved out of the area between the garage and a wall of the house. Five steps led up to it, and unlike the other homes, the door was shut. Angeal frowned at this. A break in the pattern was not likely a good sign. But on the other hand, could it mean that Sephiroth would be here?

"We're the first ones here," Vincent noted as they got out of the car. "We shouldn't wait for the police." There were several reasons for that. Of course, if Sephiroth was inside dying, no time could be wasted in finding him. But also, if the madman was there and would happen to reveal the truth of their origins, it would be better for the police not to hear it. And if there were traps inspired by methods from Gaia, they would be able to handle them better than the local police.

Barret was already heading to the porch. "The guy's got a fancy house here," he said. "This ain't much smaller than Sephiroth's place." He reached for the doorknob, turning it. It gave a creaking wail as it slid open.

"And he's still not lockin' the doors," Cid frowned.

Angeal came up behind them, staring into the room beyond. They were facing a parlor, but beyond that was a living room designed the same as the other living rooms. And as they watched, lights throughout the house were beginning to come on, as if by some automatic means.

"This house must be being controlled by a computer," Angeal decided as he stepped onto the marble tile. Quite a few of the more expensive homes in the city were that way, but Sephiroth had never gone along with the concept. Other than the security system, very little in their house was controlled by computers. And no one minded. It was preferable to control the affairs of the house themselves.

"But should the lights all be comin' on like this?" Cid advanced towards the hall, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "It's more like we've waltzed into some show set up for us."

That was what was concerning Angeal. He looked into a room at the beginning of the hall, raising an eyebrow. It was a den, furnished with plush couches and chairs, thick rugs, and a lit fireplace.

Barret came up behind him. "Is there a reason for that, or is it just to try to creep us out?" he frowned.

Angeal shook his head. Something seemed very wrong about leaving the fireplace unattended--well, besides the obvious safety risks. Barret had a good point. If there was a definite reason, what was it? If they went to put it out, would something explode?

"Let's leave it for now," Barret said, turning away to head down the hall. "The police'll be here soon and they can figure out what to do about it."

That was true; the police had been following close behind. But a frown crossed Angeal's features. It was strange that they were not here yet. Had they been deliberately delayed? Maybe the orchestrator behind all of this wanted Sephiroth's friends and allies to be here alone.

Vincent moved past them to step into the room. "We should put it out," he said, his voice leaving no room for arguments. "Go on ahead and I'll take care of it."

Barret frowned. "Just looks like a waste of time to me," he objected.

"We'll see," was all Vincent would say in reply.

The others went on ahead, searching each room to no avail. When Vincent caught up with them again, he took part in the inspection too. No one was anywhere in the house, at least not on this floor. And the situation did not change when they ascended the stairs to the next floor and resumed the excursion. The house was eerily silent. And the rooms they were peering into up here were also empty. Maybe the madman had escaped again. But if he had, he had probably left a dubious parting gift. Angeal clenched a fist. If only it could be Sephiroth . . . a living Sephiroth. . . .

"Somethin' don't smell right in here," Barret muttered as they met in the corridor after checking the last rooms on the second floor. Then the explanation dawned. "The gas is leakin'!"

Vincent's eyes narrowed just slightly. "We need to find where it is and turn it off," he said. They needed to be able to search the rest of the house. None of them would last long with the gas actually able to be smelled.

"If we can smell it, we're liable to keel over at any time," Cid remarked, turning to head for the stairs. "It's a good thing you shut off that fire, Vince."

Vincent grunted in agreement.

Angeal hated to follow them. Maybe the third floor would be where Sephiroth was, and he was laying helpless as he was being killed by the gas leak. But it would not do any good if all of them were incapacitated or killed as well. They needed to shut it off first and then come back to continue looking for Sephiroth. Quickly Angeal hurried after Cid and the others as they made their way down the stairs.

They were just barely out of the house and preparing to look for the gas meter when Vincent stiffened. "There's no time!" he said, his voice rough and filled with urgency. "We have to get off the property right now!"

No one questioned him. Angeal felt his stomach twist as they ran for the car. Was there another fireplace in the house that was also lit, and the fumes were about to reach it? Was that why the one they had found had been ablaze--because the gas leak had been planned?

The force of the explosion sent everyone flying. Angeal tumbled over the hood of the car, slamming onto the pavement. Somewhere nearby, Barret gave a loud curse as he also crashed. Cid and Vincent rolled in opposite directions.

Angeal looked up, staring in the direction of the home from which they had just fled. Now it was unable to be seen through the blazing inferno. The sight of the flames seared into his mind. Suddenly he felt sick, and not because of the spill. He barely even heard the police yelling around him as they arrived.

If Sephiroth had been in there, now he was most likely dead.

* * *

It took nearly two hours to reach the manor near the mountains--one hour for the normal drive to the area, and what became close to a second just looking for the house's exact location. By that time both Zack and Cloud were all the more deeply agonized. And it did not help that they had lost the police somewhere along the way and had not been able to contact them or Angeal or anyone else. The cellphone signals this close to the mountains were very unstable, fading in and out at will. At last they were forced to concede defeat.

"Is that it up there?" Cloud asked as they rounded the corner. Up through a row of tall pine trees, a house was visible. Amid its protection, it looked cold and ominous.

"It'd better be!" Zack exclaimed. "Man, talk about 'near' to the mountains. This is pretty much _in _the mountains!"

He drove along the winding road until the building came into full view. The trees were waving wildly, blown by the wind again. The storm that had been approaching for the past day was now almost here. And the house, with all its lights ablaze, might hold a storm of a different kind.

"It's the place." Zack steered onto the driveway. "There's the address."

Cloud gave a firm nod. "Let's go then."

As Zack parked, both he and Cloud leaped out and ran over to the large porch. They were on their own now, and they were certainly not going to wait for the police or anyone else to catch up to them. They had to find Sephiroth. But what if he was not here and there were no clues as to where to journey next? What would they do? What would there even _be_ to do?

Zack was alert the moment he found that the front door was locked. What reason would there be for such sudden security, unless Seph was inside? He clenched a fist, looking to Cloud. From the blond's expression, he was having similar thoughts.

"We've gotta get in there now!" Zack exclaimed. "There's no sense waiting around for everyone else to get here."

Cloud nodded. "We'll break it in," he said. "On three?"

Zack nodded as well. "Let's go!" he directed.

As he counted, he and Cloud got into position. Then they slammed into the door, using their full body weight in an attempt to weaken it.

Cloud made a face. "It didn't budge."

"It usually takes a few tries," Zack said, struggling to hold in his frustration anyway. "Again!"

The second time they propelled themselves into the door, it groaned. "It's weakening!" Zack exclaimed.

The door began to splinter when they tried for the third time. Cloud surveyed it with an approving nod. They were going to get inside.

By the fourth try it flew open on its hinges, crashing into the wall so hard it left a mark.

Cloud rolled his eyes. "I'm not paying for that," he noted.

"Me either!" Zack smirked. "The guy doesn't deserve it!"

The two friends rushed inside, standing and staring at the spacious entryway. For once, this was a home different from the others in layout. But from somewhere nearby, a clock chimed half-past the hour.

"I'm starting to hate that sound," Cloud muttered.

Zack was already hurrying ahead, peering into the nearest room. He wanted to scream Seph's name at the top of his lungs as they searched, straining to hear some weak and faint reply--or even better, a normal, healthy one. Surely it would not be unwise to call out; the creep probably knew they had come in here.

A loudspeaker crackled. "So now the Shinra dogs are destroying my house!" the hated electronic voice said. "They're so desperate to find their poor, unfortunate friend."

Cloud's eyes narrowed. "He's here, isn't he," he said, looking around for the source of the sound.

"His body may be," was the sneering retort.

Zack stiffened. "It hasn't been twenty-four hours yet!" he cried. Not that he did not think this wretch was capable of lying to them some more, but the thought that they were too late and that Seph was already beyond help was too much to bear. There had to still be time! There had to be! He turned, rushing from the empty room to look in the one across from it. Cloud took the next room.

"I played a little game with him, too, you see," the voice said in delight. "I had him collecting the vials that he would need to purge himself of the illness that plagues him. Or so I told him."

Zack could not control himself. "And they were all poisoned?!" he screamed, the panic rising even more as he ran out of the next vacant room.

A laugh. "No, not really. But he didn't give himself all that he needed. Of course he couldn't have, even if he had tried. You see, I split up the properties of the antidote. He pieced together the clues about combining two of them. But he did not realize he also needed the third property. I didn't give any indication that he did! The two he used kept him alive for a little while and fixed some of the damage, but . . . well, I can't say if it's still the same. He fell unconscious almost as soon as he injected himself."

Zack's eyes blazed as he entered the next room. In each, the voice was just as clear, indicating a speaker in each one. A harsh curse escaped his lips, directed at the demon to whom he was speaking. "You always did think you were guiltless, no matter what you did!" he cried. "Even burning up an orphanage was nothing to you!"

Cloud was chilled by Zack's tone and his words. Zack had tried to keep his composure throughout most of this nightmare. Now he was dangerously close to snapping. When they met the guy in person, there was no telling what Zack might do . . . or try to do, at least. Not that Cloud did not feel the same way. Even though he had not known this person before today, his fury and outrage were close to the breaking point. And for Zack it would be so much worse, having the memories of the previous crimes this madman had committed against humanity.

"And what about Sephiroth?" was the embittered retort. "He destroyed so many places in Wutai."

"He felt awful about it!" Zack burst out. "He never wanted any innocent people to die. And he never thought it was some token of bravery, like you think about what you've done!"

"Once anyone associates with and condones Shinra, then they cease to be innocent! It doesn't matter how old or young they are!"

A retort to that was on Cloud's tongue, but it never fell. As he approached a room at the back, he stiffened, his blue eyes widening in his horror at the sight of a man laying lifeless on the floor. "Sephiroth!" he cried. His legs felt like Jell-O as he ran inside, collapsing on his knees next to his friend. A syringe lay on the floor near him, as if he had dropped it during his fall. His eyes were closed, his expression deeply pained as his hair spread out around him. Was he breathing? It looked like he was, but what if Cloud was just imagining it in his anguished mind?

_"Seph!"_

Cloud's heart twisted at Zack's agonized cry. In an instant the brunet was running in, crashing to his knees beside the motionless form. He reached out, grabbing Seph's wrist as he searched for a pulse. Then he relaxed just slightly.

"He's alive," he managed to say, a weak grin coming over his features.

Relief spread over Cloud. Then they still had a chance to save him.

He looked over Sephiroth's limp form again as he reached to pick up the syringe. It was a relief that he was wearing clothes, too. After finding both the shirt and the pants, Cloud had wondered if they would find Sephiroth stripped of everything. It didn't seem like it would be beneath the creep to leave him like that.

It looked like his wounds had been taken care of, too. That was somewhat a surprise, but maybe not really, once he thought about it. After all, since the guy had set up all of this, he would want Sephiroth able to participate in his "game" instead of bleeding all over the place. Cloud's stomach twisted as images of what may have happened during the crash flashed through his mind. But he had to force himself to concentrate.

"How will we even give him the rest when we find it?" he frowned, eying the needle. "This thing's been on the floor. We probably wouldn't be able to get it sterilized good enough."

Zack swallowed. "We should probably call an ambulance," he suggested. "There's probably not another needle thing around here."

Cloud nodded, frankly amazed that he could think enough to move at all. "Yeah. But it'd take so long for any ambulance to get up here," he realized. "And would the cellphones even work?"

"They have to," Zack said, the helplessness and anguish all too obvious in his voice. "Or maybe there's a landline phone in here. There has to be something!"

Cloud nodded again. He was still feeling numb, unable to process what was happening. He looked up at the assortment of vials laying on the desk. It looked like Sephiroth had mixed ones that had red and blue marks on them. Then there were two others like that, as well as two greens. Did that mean it was the green that was the rest of the antidote? And how much should they give him? He had probably taken half a vial each of the blue and the red. Would he need the same amount of the green? Or had he even given himself too much of the red and the blue? Suddenly it was all overwhelming.

"Call an ambulance?" the treacherous voice purred now. "Your friend is right, Commander Fair; they'd never get here in time. Isn't Sephiroth's pulse still racing?"

Zack bit down on his lip. Seph's heartbeat was much faster than it should be. It could very well be true, what the guy was saying. But they could try anyway, and meanwhile do everything they could to help Seph. It would be much better if trained medical people could monitor the situation and tell them just how much of the stuff Seph would need. But they could not fully rely on that. Maybe it was even a poison the doctors would have no knowledge of, and with this creep being from Gaia, that was likely. Even on Gaia, the physicians might not know how to deal with it if it was something that this guy or some other terrorist had invented.

"What's more, now that you're in here, all telephone signals are completely blocked! Neither of your cellphones will work! Not that they were doing very well anyway." He sounded particularly delighted about this.

Horror gripped tighter at Zack's heart. He grabbed up his phone. "No Signal" flashed across the screen. And from Cloud's expression, he was having the same experience.

"You are completely on your own!" the voice cackled. "You will have to save Sephiroth by yourselves. Oh! And one more thing. If you're thinking of washing that needle under hot water, you won't be able to. I never had the water fully installed."

Zack gritted his teeth. What could they do now? Even if it took a long time for them to find this place, the police should have come by now. Had the creep done something to delay them? Right now Zack and Cloud really were on their own. And Seph looked so helpless and sick. . . .

"Hey!" Zack exclaimed, looking to Cloud. "Didn't you end up bringing the mini-first aid kit in from the car?"

Cloud blinked. "Yeah," he said slowly, confusion written in his eyes. "Since we didn't know if Sephiroth would have open wounds or something. . . ." But then realization dawned of what Zack meant. "There's sterilization stuff in it!" he declared, moving to pull it out of his pocket.

Zack gave an eager nod. "We'll just have to give our best shot at cleaning it!" he said. "That's our biggest problem with the thing. It'll be okay to reuse it, since it's still for Seph and no one else." The plastic wrapper on the desk was hopefully what the syringe had come in. If it was something that had already been used by someone else. . . . Zack shuddered. He did not want to think of that.

He hated leaving Seph on the floor like this, too. With their first priority being to give him the rest of the antidote, they could not take the time to move him onto the bed. But at least he could be given a little more dignity and comfort. Zack shifted, moving further across the floor until he was above Seph. Gently he reached out, curling his hands under Seph's arms and lifting Seph's upper body until his head and shoulders could be supported by Zack's lap. Seph never made a sound as Zack eased him into position. Instead he was limp and lifeless, like a ragdoll . . . or like that awful dummy thing. It was unbearable. How far gone was he?

Zack touched his hand to Seph's forehead. His temperature was definitely higher than it should be.

"There. That's probably as good as I can get it."

Zack looked over to Cloud, who had been cleaning the syringe all this time. Now he set it on the desk before wiping his hands with another antiseptic pad.

"So it's this green one?" he wondered, picking up one of the containers marked with green. How would they really know? What if the guy was lying and this was poison? What if Sephiroth had injected himself with poison, too? Or what if the stuff he had used was good enough and the green one was just more of the same? Maybe he was unconscious while his body repaired the damage. If he was given anything else, it might be an overdose.

Zack nodded. "I guess so, if that's the only other color there." He laid an arm around Seph's chest for extra support. He abhorred feeling how limp his pal was right now. He wanted Seph to move, to get up, to say something sarcastic. . . . Instead he was just laying here, not even knowing what was going on around him. The rise and fall of his chest was erratic.

"Let's just try a fourth or something to start with," Cloud suggested. "And if it looks like it's going good, we can add some more."

That sounded fine to Zack. He watched as Cloud opened the vessel and filled the syringe with some of the liquid. When it was about a fourth full, he pulled it back and corked the vial. He took a deep breath as he turned to face Zack and Sephiroth.

"Okay," he said at last. "Here goes everything, I guess."

Zack nodded, holding up Seph's arm. Cloud took hold of it as well, pushing the needle into it. Still Sephiroth did not respond or move.

"How long should we wait?" Cloud wondered uncomfortably as he removed the needle a moment later.

"Just a few minutes, probably." Zack reached to feel Seph's pulse again. Was it his imagination, or was it slowing just a bit?

Cloud nodded. He turned to fill the syringe with another fourth, just in case.

"Seph?" Zack said, his voice low and pleading. "Can you hear us?" He took a deep breath. "We're with you, pal--me and Cloud. Angeal's coming, too. Man, I wish we could've got here sooner. . . ." Right now he did not care if the madman was overhearing. He only wished that Seph was capable of hearing.

He gave a weak grin. "Hey, even Vince and Cid and Barret turned out to help find you. They couldn't stand that the guy was treating you like this. . . ."

Cloud knelt where he was, gripping the knees of his pants. He did not feel comfortable speaking to someone laying unconscious, not when he was not alone with the person. It would just make him feel silly. He knew he would just stumble over his words and sound like an idiot, too. He would let Zack do the talking, since Zack actually wanted to . . . and since he was already doing it.

Cloud took up Sephiroth's limp left wrist to search for his pulse rate again. It had definitely come back down, but it was not altogether normal. Taking up the needle for the second time, he injected Sephiroth with a bit more of the liquid.

It seemed an eternity later that Sephiroth stirred, a weak groan escaping from his lips. Zack perked up, his eyes shining with hope.

"Seph?!" he exclaimed.

Green eyes cracked open, glassy and unfocused. Zack had been talking to him, Zack was peering down at him, and it felt as though Zack was supporting him. A confused frown crossed Sephiroth's features. Zack was here? This was not a product of illusion?

His lips parted as he tried to speak. "Zack . . ."

Zack broke into a wide, relieved grin. "You're awake, Seph! Oh wow, you're really awake!"

Sephiroth gave a weak grunt. He remembered something about injecting himself with what he had hoped was the antidote . . . and seeing that disturbing vision. . . . The last thing he had heard before swooning had been the madman's cruel laughter.

And Zack was not the only one with him. He turned his head to the side, trying to focus on Cloud. The blond was setting down the syringe, looking uncomfortable. But there was relief in his eyes and posture, too.

". . . You needed some of the stuff in the green one," he mumbled.

Sephiroth nodded slowly. "I'd wondered if I would," he answered. So he had done all that he could, but he still would have perished if Zack and Cloud had not found him and given him the rest of the antidote. He was not entirely certain what he thought of that. He had wanted to save himself on his own, and to be just fine when he was found. Instead, Zack and Cloud had seen him laying on the floor. On some level, that embarrassed him. But mostly he loathed knowing how they must have felt.

Placing his hands on the floor, he began a shaky attempt to sit up. Zack assisted, easing his hands around to Seph's back as he gently pushed his friend off of his lap.

Sephiroth raised a hand to his forehead. Now he was fully feeling the effects of what it was taking to eliminate the poison. He was immensely weakened. And the headache was rushing behind his eyes and through every part of his brain. All he wanted now was to lay down and rest.

"What happened to Koseki?" he grunted.

Cloud blinked in surprise. "You already knew it was that guy?" he asked.

". . . He was laughing like the madman he is before I lost consciousness," Sephiroth said. "Even through the electronic disguise, I recognized it."

Zack swallowed. "He was talking to us when we came in," he said. "We haven't caught him yet."

"And you won't catch me at all!" his voice crackled over the speaker. "You're welcome to try. And you might want to! At the push of a button I can destroy every one of the homes you've visited. I happen to know there are still police officers and friends of yours at all or most of them."

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed. He had struggled to search every part of the house he could make himself get to. But the third floor, which he knew existed from looking out windows, had been sealed. There must be a secret panel concealing the staircase that led up to it. That was likely where Koseki was hiding, if he was on this property.

"I'm only giving you fifteen minutes, too," Koseki purred. "I'll just place this clock right here by the speaker so you can hear it."

Cloud made a face as the loud ticking filled the room. Fifteen minutes? How would they have any luck in fifteen minutes? And even if they found the guy, he probably had one more cruel surprise planned. Maybe he was going to detonate everything while they watched, helpless, before dying themselves.

Zack was already leaping to his feet. "Okay!" he yelled. "We'll take your challenge, Koseki. But you're gonna regret it." The dark tone in his voice was unmistakable.

Sephiroth reached for him, grabbing at the back of his shirt. "Zack. . . ." He looked up at his friend, hating that he was still sitting on the floor. He would make himself get up somehow, but he would certainly not use Zack as his support unless or until Zack offered it himself.

Zack blinked, looking back at him. Seph's eyes were grim and urgent.

"He must be on the third floor," he said. "I wasn't able to get up there because it was blocked."

Zack considered this, then nodded. "We'll just unblock it!" he vowed, reaching out a hand to help Seph stand.

Sephiroth gripped it, pushing himself off the floor. He wobbled before catching himself, his eyes narrowed in frustration.

Cloud stood by, watching Zack helping Sephiroth get up. He had started to move forward to help when Sephiroth stumbled, but then had stopped when Sephiroth had caught himself. Did Sephiroth know that Cloud had been holding back? Maybe he was still feeling guilty for wondering if Sephiroth had written the note, in spite of what Zack had talked about with him. Maybe he would not be able to feel at peace until he had discussed the matter with Sephiroth. Or maybe he was just worried about catching that nutcase. None of them could have any peace until Koseki was no longer a threat.

Now Zack hesitated. Seph should really rest and not come with them, but on the other hand he hated to leave him behind. There was no telling what might happen if Seph was alone in his condition. Koseki might have something else in mind.

But Seph had his own ideas. "I'm coming with you," he said, his grip growing more firm.

Cloud gave him a worried look. When he spoke, more of an edge came out than he had intended. "You could have died!" he snapped. "We came in and you were laying on the floor. The antidote's still trying to heal you. And now you're going to get up and try to track down this idiot?"

Sephiroth grunted. "I didn't say I would try to fight him. I said I'm coming with you." It angered him that he could not fight Koseki and stop him, but he was aware of his limits. It would only cause more trouble were he to overexert himself.

Not that going up long flights of stairs would not bring that to pass, as well.

Zack gripped Seph's shoulder. "Let's go then," he declared. "Let's bring this guy down and then get home so you can rest!"

Sephiroth grunted, but nodded.

"Thirteen minutes," Koseki purred.

Cloud felt like telling him to shut up. But that was not going to help anything. Instead he narrowed his eyes, making his way to the door. Behind him, Sephiroth and Zack followed. And it sounded like Sephiroth was stumbling again. Cloud looked back.

Sephiroth grabbed the wall in displeasure. "I'm alright," he said.

All of them knew it was not true. But they could not stop to argue. As quickly as they could, they hurried into the hall.

* * *

Angeal could not help but feel a mixture of panic and hope as he rushed into the house around the same time. The police had indeed been delayed at the place that had exploded, and it looked like they had not yet arrived here, either. He had gotten some story from them about being led on a wild goose chase by either the person or someone working for him. If that was what had happened here, too, was this house also going to explode? And why hadn't Cloud and Zack answered their phones? He wanted to believe it was just because the reception was terrible up here. But when so many horrible things were going wrong, there could be any number of less-encouraging explanations.

He stopped short in the entryway as Zack and Cloud emerged from a room near the back of the hall, supporting Sephiroth between them. Sephiroth looked weak and wobbly and possibly even faint, but he was alive. Angeal ran over to them.

"Sephiroth!" he exclaimed. "Are you alright?" Which was a foolish thing to ask. He knew what Sephiroth would say.

The silver-haired man gave a weary nod. "Yes," he said, moving forward another few steps.

Zack looked to Angeal worriedly. "Long story short, Koseki says we have thirteen minutes to find him or else he'll press a button and blow up all of the other houses--with everybody in them!" he cried.

Angeal's eyes narrowed. "One of them's already in flames," he reported.

Zack took notice of the scratches on Angeal's face and arms. "Are you okay?!" he gasped.

Angeal nodded. "But nevermind that," he said. "Do you have any idea where he is?"

"The third floor," Sephiroth said. "If we can find a way up to it."

By now they were approaching the staircase. Sephiroth reached for the banister, his hand shaking. As he grasped it, he took a step up.

Angeal frowned. "Should you be coming?" he asked.

"No," Sephiroth grunted.

Zack shook his head. "But it wouldn't be safe for him to be somewhere alone, either!" he said. "That creep did poison him!" The anger was slipping into his voice again as he also began to ascend the stairs.

"I received the antidote. I'll be fine." In determination Sephiroth continued making his way up the steps. Cloud hurried on ahead, leaving Zack and Angeal to help Sephiroth if he needed it. His blond bangs slapped against his face as he ran.

Maybe he could find the entrance first and get up there to stop Koseki. But his eyes narrowed. Koseki was not especially large in stature, Zack had said, but he had amazing strength--which was obvious if he had managed to drag Sephiroth anywhere. Not knowing what to expect, Cloud might not be able to defeat him all on his own. But it would even be a help if he could hold the guy off until the others arrived.

He leaped past the final stair, landing on the edge of the second floor. Then he ran down the hall, staring at every inch of the walls and ceiling. Nothing looked out of place. Would the entrance be in one of the rooms? Or would they have to press on the walls to find some secret passage? That would take a lot of time that they just did not have--as further evidenced by the ever ticking clock over the speakers.

He had to think! There was probably some solution to this mystery that he was just overlooking.

_The clock. . . ._

He whirled around, looking to Sephiroth as he arrived at the landing. "Where's the big clock in this house?" he demanded. "There's been one in every other place we've gone to."

Sephiroth shook his head. "I don't know," he said. "I heard it every fifteen minutes, but I never did see it."

Cloud cursed, running his hands through his hair. "If we could find it, we might find the entrance to the third floor!" he said.

"The next time it chimes will be when we don't have any more time," Angeal frowned.

"Maybe we'll be able to hear it ticking or something through the wall," Zack suggested. "Let's go along pressing up against the wall to see if we can hear anything!"

"That's going to look stupid," Cloud muttered. But he complied. Right now it was about their only chance.

They had gone down nearly the entire corridor when Sephiroth suddenly came to attention. "I can hear something," he declared. He was sagging against the wall more than anything else, and gripping at it in desperation to keep from sinking to the floor.

"Is it the clock?" Angeal asked, looking over at him.

"I think it is," Sephiroth said. He struggled to straighten up, frowning at the blank piece of wall in front of him. "There must be a passageway through here," he mused.

"But where?!" Zack exclaimed as he came over to investigate. "Is it really as simple as moving something?" He flung out his hands, accidentally clipping a painting. It swung back and forth in response, scraping against the wall. In protest, the wall creaked.

"There is something back there!" Zack cried. He gripped the edges of the painting, preparing to take it down from the wall.

"Wait!" Sephiroth said, reaching to grip part of the frame. "The painting may have a clue on how to open the panel so that we don't waste time."

Zack blinked. "Yeah?" He studied the thing. It relied heavily on shadows for effect, showing a silhouetted figure standing at the doorway of a dark passage. The light shining around the figure illuminated a set of stairs leading to a closed door at the top.

"All I'm getting out of it is that there really is a panel here," Zack frowned. "It doesn't look like it says how to get into it!"

Cloud came over, peering at the canvas. "Maybe there's a trigger right here?" he suggested, pointing at the person's left hand. It was resting against part of the wall outside the ominous room.

"But where on the wall is it?!" Zack burst out.

"Right under the painting," Sephiroth said. He reached out, feeling along that part of the wall as Zack lifted the frame. Under his fingers, the wall moved.

"Take it off the hook," Sephiroth directed.

Zack did, swinging the painting around to place it on the floor out of their way. Sephiroth gripped the hook, turning it to the left. The panel slid open.

"Hey!" Zack grinned. "Great detective work, Seph!"

Sephiroth grunted, peering into the space. It was exactly as depicted in the painting, with the empty floor, mysterious staircase, and closed door at the top. Underneath it, a strip of light could be seen shining through.

Well . . . there was one item in the room, he surmised as he leaned in further. The grandfather clock was ticking away to his left, mostly hidden in the shadows.

He regarded it in annoyance. How he had been able to hear it all over the house was another mystery, unless it had been fitted with a speaker as well. Slowly he made his way inside the room, gripping the edge of the wall for balance.

"Let's go," Angeal said, stepping into the room as Sephiroth entered. "I don't know how much time we have left, but it can't be much."

"I lost track myself," Zack said, hurrying in but looking over to Seph. His lavender eyes were wide and filled with his worry and concern.

Sephiroth shook his head. "I'm fine," he said. "Don't try to help me; just get up there. I'll follow."

"But there's not even a banister!" Zack protested.

Angeal was already at the top. He turned the doorknob, his eyes narrowing as the door slipped open. He had half-expected it to be locked. Beyond it, he could see a large room filled with monitors, all depicting different parts of the house, as well as what was happening in other houses. On the largest screen in the middle, it was counting down the time to detonation.

"Seven minutes," he muttered, stepping onto the floor. There was no one to be seen. Was this another trap? Would they still not meet the one behind this and instead be forced to find a way to dismantle the bombs on their own?

Cloud peered in next, he and Zack having finally convinced Sephiroth to allow himself to be helped again. "So where is he?" he frowned.

Sephiroth moved away from them, walking over to the monitors. Every few moments, the scenes on each would change. "There he is," he announced without warning, indicating a man with round glasses and a long braid standing on what seemed to be a platform outside. In his hand he held what looked like the control box.

Physically speaking, Koseki had not changed much in ten years. But now he had lost whatever semblance of sanity he had once had--unlike Dalton, who had mellowed through the years.

"Where's that?" Zack exclaimed.

"It's on the roof," Angeal frowned. "I noticed what it looked like when I got here. Vincent, Barret, and Cid have been inspecting the yard."

"Oh great." Cloud looked around the room. "So now we have to find another secret entrance?" It looked as though the third floor consisted almost entirely of this one, large space. But over near the far wall was a lone door. He hurried over to it, hauling it open. Beyond it was a narrow staircase.

"It's been found!" Zack whooped.

The four men made their way into the small stairwell, going up the steps as fast as humanly possible. Being that it was such a confining space, they could only move single-file. Sephiroth held on to both sides of the wall as he ascended.

Cloud thrust open the door. The wind, much more ferocious than he had thought, whipped the slab of wood away from him. It slammed into the wall with a sickening _crack._ The demented man whirled around, his expression twisting in grotesque delight to see his company.

"So!" he cried. "You've come at last. I knew you would have the intelligence to find your way here." The wind was also flinging his braid this way and that. It was a wonder that it did not tear his glasses from his face.

"Of course we'd come!" Zack snapped as he peered out from behind Cloud. "Letting you blow up places isn't our style!"

Cloud stepped out onto the roof, the others quickly following. Koseki looked from him to Zack, and then to Sephiroth and Angeal.

"Naturally," he purred. "You think yourselves so grand that of course you must stop such a scheme."

"Actually, we just want to stop it so people won't die," Cloud retorted. "It wouldn't bother me if they never even knew I helped."

Koseki sneered. "Well, then, maybe they'll never know how you spent your final moments," he said. "It's a pity that you went through so much trouble to save Sephiroth, only for it to all come apart now. But at least you can die together. I'm sure you'll appreciate that."

A strong hand came down on his shoulder. "None of us have any plans to die tonight." Sephiroth's voice was cold and hard.

The wild eyes widened. Koseki had been so distracted in taunting Zack and Cloud that he had not noticed the other two slipping away and coming over to him. Angeal was on his other side.

"You can hand over your device, or we can take it by force," said Angeal. "It's your choice."

The wicked sneer widened. "Then take it!" he cried. "Take it and be the instruments of your own deaths!" With that he flung the box into the air. The moment it impacted, everything would explode. He had long ago ceased to care if he was among the number to die.

Zack and Cloud both dove for it, their arms outstretched in desperation. As they clawed, they brought the box down into their hands. The red button glowed, as if sneering itself.

"Turn it off!" Sephiroth directed from where he and Angeal were still restraining the madman. He had seen the various controls on the device, and similar to the ones long ago used in Dismal, this one had an Off switch.

Zack had noticed as well. Hastily he flipped the switch. Cloud looked on, his expression tense.

"Everything's okay!" Zack announced, placing the box in a pocket. "So now it looks like we just have a score to settle with you."

They had not thought it would be possible for Koseki to become even more crazed. But now he reacted as a wild animal. A sudden burst of strength allowed him to break free of the men holding him captive.

"You will not imprison me again!" he cried. "I will never be disgraced by you in that way on this planet! You will die! You will all die!" He lunged for the weakened Sephiroth before anyone could stop him.

Sephiroth backed up, initially startled by the abrupt action. But then he caught the younger man's wrists, gripping them firmly in his hands. Koseki was attempting to shove him over the edge of the railing. Sephiroth planted his feet, his hair blowing wildly in every direction as he struggled against his adversary. With every bit of his remaining strength, he swung Koseki to crash into the railing instead. Now _he_ was being restrained.

Koseki regarded him in hated rage. He never had been skilled in direct combat. He was only formidable when attacking from the shadows. But he still had one last, cruel trick.

From his sleeve he withdrew a small and deadly ninja star. In a flash of silver it was slicing into Sephiroth's arm. Sephiroth grunted in pain, his concentration momentarily broken. Koseki took the opportunity to raise his foot, shoving Sephiroth in the stomach. Sephiroth fell back, yet was already going to attack again. And by now the others were converging as well.

Koseki's eyes gleamed in sadistic glee. The one thing he had learned about combat was how to fling ninja stars to cause the most damage. He would use this one now, harming all of them in one grand arc. And when they were hurt, he could steal the box back. He raised his hand into the air.

And lightning split the sky, finding its desired target in the metal in his hand.

Eyes that been filled with cruel delight a moment before were now encompassed by agony. A scream tore from the twisted lips as the electricity channeled through his body. Sephiroth and the others could only stand by, stunned and somewhat sickened by the sight. It was a horrifying, painful end for anyone.

The lightning released its hold. For a long moment there was silence. Koseki's eyes were already deadened as his body wobbled on the edge of the roof. Then he slammed backwards into the railing, tumbling over the side as it broke free. Zack came to life, reaching to grab at the wretched form, but to no avail. The body disappeared from their view. The sickening _thump_ at the bottom seemed to echo around them all.

A curse of disbelief from Barret startled them back into the present.

"Seph!" Zack exclaimed, running over to the silver-haired man. Seph was gripping his wounded arm, blood seeping through his fingers.

Zack looked back to Cloud. "Where's that first aid kit?" he demanded.

Cloud dug in his pocket, getting out the small box and handing it to Zack. With shaking fingers Zack pried open the lid, taking out a disinfectant wipe. Quickly he cleaned and bandaged the injury, unheeding of the wind slapping his hair in his face. Then he looked up at his friend.

Seph was looking back down at him, giving a slow nod of acknowledgment and thanks. He was okay. He was alive . . . ! There had not been time to fully process it before, when Seph had awakened from the antidote. Koseki had seen to that. But now, with the wind howling around them, it was sinking into their hearts. The nightmare was over. They would be able to go home safe.

Zack immediately pulled Seph close in a hug.

"Oh man, Seph . . . when I think of how we could've lost you . . ." But he shook his head, not wanting to finish the thought. Sephiroth laid a hand on his shoulder.

"You haven't," he said.

"Yeah. . . ." Zack gave a weak grin.

After a moment he pulled away. "We should get out of here and go home. . . ." he said.

Sephiroth nodded. Home sounded incomprehensibly wonderful. As did a shower and a bed.

Angeal placed a hand on Sephiroth's shoulder. Sephiroth looked at the one who had been his friend for the longest amount of time. A silent reunion passed between them.

Now Cloud stepped forward. "I knew you shouldn't have come with us!" he snapped at Sephiroth. "You got hurt again. Do you know how worried Zack's been today? And Angeal? And . . ." He trailed off, unable to finish.

Somehow he found his arms going around Sephiroth, as the older man stiffened in shock. It was only for a brief moment, before realization and embarrassment took over Cloud's senses. But in that brief moment he said what he had not been able to get out in words.

And his friend understood.


	6. The Dreams We've Been Searching For

**Notes: Many thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed, and to everyone who has given plot help, specifically Kaze and Lisa, and to Lisa for the idea on how to get Angeal into the last scene! This has been a really heart-wrenching and enjoyable fic to write.**

* * *

**Epilogue**

_**The Dreams We're Searching For**_

Sephiroth was very lucky that his life had been preserved.

He knew that quite well, and he was thankful.

But he also knew, to his irritation, that he needed to stay home and rest for a while.

Before that could happen, however, they needed to _get_ home. When the police arrived they wanted to question everyone, and the kinder policewoman eventually took them aside to inquire as to how they had met the deceased, where and why, and other such unsettling queries.

"I've also found it odd, how your company seemed to appear out of nowhere," she commented. "But that sort of thing seems to happen here."

"Seriously?!" Zack exclaimed.

She smirked. "It's as if you're all aliens," she said. "But I couldn't care less, as long as you're not planning to invade the planet."

Four sets of shocked eyes looked back at her. At last Zack managed to find his voice.

"You're kidding, right?" he said, trying to put a lighter tone into his voice.

"Maybe," she smiled, and winked. "Maybe not."

Zack shook his head. "You're sure a lot nicer than that other lady officer," he could not help commenting (and making a deliberate change of the subject). "Even though you look a lot like her."

"She's my cousin," was the answer. "Actually, she was transferred here because her superior hoped that staying a while in such a strange city would make her more sympathetic to people."

_So far it's not working,_ Cloud could not help thinking.

"If you're ever in a tight spot, you can call me," she said. "Gabrielle Valesquez." And with that she gave a casual wave as she walked back to where the other officers were gathered.

The men were still standing and staring.

"So . . . does this mean we've got an ally, or what?" Zack wondered.

"I guess we'll have to wait and see." Cloud frowned. "But I'm not looking forward to finding out how this place is strange."

Sephiroth moved to open the car door. "I seem to recall Denzel mentioning something his friends told him about card monsters coming to life," he said, only half-sarcastic.

"Really?!" Zack gasped. "So it's not just kids' tall tales?!"

"Right now, I don't even want to know," Angeal said wearily.

Sephiroth and Cloud concurred.

* * *

When they finally arrived home, where they were greeted by the relieved Tifa, Aerith, and Marlene, and the aloof Denzel, Sephiroth insisted on having a shower. Once his hair was fresh and clean, he was able to relax into the bed. Somehow he ended up sleeping through the night and into the next day, to everyone's relief. They managed to sleep too, and since none of them had done so since the beginning of the nightmare, it was welcome for all of them.

But Zack still managed to be awake and by Seph's bedside the following morning, when Seph began to wake up.

"Hey pal," Zack grinned, leaning over into Seph's line of vision.

Sephiroth made a grunting sound in his throat as he began to focus. He was home, laying in a soft bed, and Zack was with him. It was not an illusion or delirium.

". . . I hope you haven't been here all the time," he remarked. Zack, and everyone else, had looked exhausted on the drive home. Barret had opted to go with them instead of with Cid and Vincent, in order to drive them home himself. Zack had nearly fallen asleep more than once, but had quickly forced himself to wake up again.

"Nope!" Zack grinned. "I just woke up not too long ago. How're you feeling?"

"Much better." He was still worn out, much to his annoyance, but at least he was no longer feeling ill. After a bit more rest, food might even start to sound good.

"Good to hear!" Zack leaned back, placing his hands behind his head.

"Are the others still asleep?" It would surprise Sephiroth if Angeal was, since he had always been a morning person. Usually, no matter how little sleep he had gotten the past night, he would be up by sunrise. The early morning start was something that had not been hard for Angeal to get used to upon joining SOLDIER.

"Most of 'em," Zack said. "Angeal went for a walk."

Sephiroth nodded. That was not a surprise.

". . . Have the police called to ask any more questions?" he asked. Hopefully the answer was No. He did not trust Officer Valesquez, but it would be a burden eased if she had seen to it that the reports they had given would be left alone and considered complete. They had delivered as much information as was possible without digging a pit for themselves, mentioning only that Sephiroth and Zack had met Koseki when they had worked for a company whose practices Koseki had abhorred. And the company was long ago defunct, its records destroyed. Valesquez had said that it was good enough for the time being, and that if anything more was required, she would question them herself.

"Nope!" Zack said. "Guess it's too early even for them."

Sephiroth was silent, his mind wandering back to the events of the previous night.

". . . Who'd have thought we'd run into that guy again, huh?"

Sephiroth gave a slow nod. Every now and then it seemed that they were reaping unpleasant consequences of him having sent all of them to this planet. He certainly had not meant to send Koseki. Or Dalton and his crew, for that matter.

"I guess all those years in prison really did to something to him." Zack frowned. They could have killed him during their confrontation in the Wutai palace so many years ago, but they had left him alive so that he could not be made into a martyr for his cause. After everything that had happened the past night, it seemed that it would have been a mercy to have ended his life instead. Keeping him alive certainly had not quelled the terrorists in Wutai. But it was hard to know; perhaps it would have even been many times worse had they killed him.

"His mind was already going before that. You remember how he behaved when we defeated him."

"It'd be impossible to forget!" Zack exclaimed, Koseki's crazed laughter echoing through his mind.

". . . I dunno," he frowned then, leaning forward in the chair. "I hated the guy so much, especially after what he did last night. I wanted to punch him out or even something worse. But I tried to grab for him when he fell. Why? He was probably already dead."

"You're a kind person," Sephiroth said. "You can't even be unfair to someone like that. You didn't know if he was dead, and instinctively you grabbed for him."

"Yeah. . . ." Zack shuddered. "I hated seeing him being electrocuted. That was just nasty." He leaned back, staring up the ceiling. "It kinda creeps me out, too--that he wasn't much older than me, I mean. He had pretty much his whole life ahead of him. But he just threw it all away to get revenge."

"He threw it away years ago, when he decided to adopt the tactics of terrorists," Sephiroth replied.

Zack nodded.

Suddenly his melancholy visage was replaced by a happy grin. "I can't feel down too long," he chirped. "You're home safe, pal!"

Sephiroth allowed himself a small smile in return.

But abruptly he frowned again, confusion coming over him as he remembered something strange.

"What is it, Seph?" Zack blinked.

Sephiroth sighed. ". . . When I was mixing the vials to inject myself, I started to get delirious," he said. "But I wasn't expecting what I saw." He still wondered if he had seen correctly, and yet he knew that he had. That had been what had startled him so much.

"I saw myself as a child."

Zack was stunned. "Really?" he said. Part of him wanted to exclaim loudly, but instead his voice came out hushed and shocked.

"Yes." Sephiroth frowned. "I can't explain why it happened. The spectre appeared when I was trying to decide whether it was safe to take the concoction or not. After I did, it vanished."

"Weird!" Zack declared, not certain what to think of this phenomenon. "How old were you?"

Sephiroth shrugged. "Around twelve . . . possibly older." He took on a dry tone. "I looked very unimpressed by my current self."

"Yeah? Well, I'm very impressed!" Zack grinned. "I mean, look at what you managed to do yesterday. You went all over that place, getting the vials and figuring out the paintings, all while the poison was trying to bring you down."

"I wasn't going to lay down and die." As far as Sephiroth was concerned, it was not impressive, but only the natural human instinct for survival. And his own determination and pride, of course.

"That's one thing I've always liked about you!" Zack declared. "You never give up."

"Someone who would give up shouldn't even be trying."

Against his will, Sephiroth found his eyelids trying to close. The conversation was wearing him down. He sank deeper into the soft pillow.

"Get back to sleep, pal," Zack said, a soft smile coming over his features.

Sephiroth could not manage anything other than an unintelligible mutter.

* * *

He awakened next to see concerned blue eyes peering in at him from the doorway. He grunted into the pillow. He and Cloud had not interacted or spoken much since Cloud had suddenly and shockingly hugged him last night, but he could tell that something was bothering the blond. Somehow he managed to gather the strength to speak now, even though he was still half-asleep.

"What is it?"

Cloud looked guilty to have been caught. "I . . . I was just checking," he mumbled, shifting his weight. "I wanted to see that you were still okay."

"What's wrong, Cloud?"

Sephiroth's voice was firm and matter-of-fact. Cloud sighed to himself as he pushed open the door and stepped inside. Sephiroth could not be fooled. And maybe Cloud would feel better if he could finally get what was bothering him out in the open around Sephiroth.

He shifted again. ". . . Do you know what that guy did at the crash site?"

Sephiroth watched him from where he was laying on his side. "He left a suicide note in my name," he said.

Cloud nodded. ". . . And he took your clothes and did stuff with them. But . . ." He looked away. "Before we found any of that, I . . . I was wondering if you could've wrote that thing." He rushed on, wanting to get in all of his explanation before Sephiroth responded. "I mean, I really knew you wouldn't! But I kept wondering. I hated the thought that maybe you'd felt like that and we . . . I . . . hadn't known to help you. . . ." His shoulders slumped.

Sephiroth was silent for a long moment. "And you're upset because you wondered?" he said at last.

"Yeah. . . ." Cloud looked back to him. "Zack and Angeal both had all that confidence in you. . . . Well, Zack said that even he'd wondered, but just for a minute, and . . ." A look of frustration passed over his features. "I don't know. I'm just sounding stupid."

"You worry too much."

Cloud blinked in confusion at Sephiroth's tone and his words. The green eyes were half-closed, yet Sephiroth sounded fully aware.

"You think you betrayed me. You haven't."

Cloud swallowed. "Sephiroth . . ."

"You're human, Cloud. If the situation had been reversed, I would have to wonder the same about you . . . even if logic said you would never kill yourself."

". . . What about Zack?" Cloud found himself asking. "I mean . . . if it was Zack, then what?"

A pause. "Yes. I would wonder then, too. But I would really know that he wouldn't do that, to himself or to us.

"And you?"

Cloud gave a helpless shrug. ". . . I want to say I wouldn't doubt at all. I mean, thinking of Zack being suicidal . . . it just wouldn't happen. But that's the same way I feel about you, and I still wondered."

He hesitated. ". . . I guess what really bothers me is thinking that maybe we aren't as good of friends as I thought," he said at last. "That we don't even know each other like we know Zack. . . ."

". . . It took a long time for me to come to know Zack." Sephiroth raised up slightly as he shifted position. "Did you become close to him in only a few months?"

"No. . . ."

"We've known each other for years, Cloud, but hardly ever as friends. However . . ." He looked the blond firmly in the eyes. "We aren't lesser friends because of it. It took so much heartache to get to this point. Don't you think our bond may have been strengthened because of what we went through first?"

Cloud mulled over it in his mind. "Yeah," he said then. "It makes sense, anyway."

Sephiroth gave a satisfied nod. "Do you still feel like you betrayed me?" he asked.

"I don't know. . . ." Cloud crossed his arms. "I can't really get over it just like that." His eyes became determined. "But I can try," he said.

"Good." Sephiroth relaxed further into the bed.

Cloud sank into a chair by the bed. "That Koseki guy . . . was he really always as crazy as he acted last night?" he frowned. "Zack said he burned down an orphanage."

"He did." Sephiroth's voice was weary. "He was one of the main leaders behind the anti-Shinra terrorists in Wutai. But no, he didn't always act as openly insane as he did this time."

"I still don't get how people get like that. . . ."

"Who does." Sephiroth sounded even more weary, if that was possible. "I've been through it and I still don't understand how it happened."

Cloud did not know anything to do except to nod. Sometimes it was hard to comprehend how different Sephiroth was from the insane wretch whom Cloud and the others had battled. This Sephiroth was different, too, from the General whom Cloud had idolized. He was so tired, and not just when he needed sleep. His weariness seemed to be a permanent state of mind, right along with his unwavering determination.

Sephiroth hesitated. ". . . I wasn't expecting that Barret and Cid would help look for me," he said. Not that he had thought Vincent would, either, but Vincent had always been more calm and detached. Barret and Cid were very vocal about their dislike of Sephiroth.

"Yeah. . . ." Cloud crossed his arms. "I knew they'd come, even if they'd gripe about it at first. Maybe they'll even warm up to you sooner or later."

"I doubt it. I wouldn't think they even should."

Cloud looked over at him. Sephiroth's expression was completely serious, a trace of sadness passing through his eyes. For some reason that made Cloud sad too.

". . . I ended up liking you again. Who knows," he said.

Sephiroth made a grunting sound in his throat. "I don't particularly care whether they like me or not," he said.

Cloud gave a slow nod. Sephiroth was telling the truth about at least that much. Sephiroth did not care because he was quite indifferent to Barret and Cid, unlike when he had not wanted to admit to caring about Cloud because he had been certain that Cloud hated him. The sadness Cloud had seen now was born more of Sephiroth's regret over knowing that he had brought about the loathing of himself and that, in his mind, he deserved every bit of it. He would never forgive himself for the past.

A shadow in the doorway caused them both to look over. Angeal was standing there, studying the scene with an impassive expression.

Cloud blinked in surprise. He reached for the edge of the nightstand to pull himself up.

But Angeal shook his head. "Stay there," he said. "I was just coming to check on Sephiroth." He looked to his old friend.

Sephiroth gave a vague nod. "I'm fine," he grunted.

"I knew you were going to say that." Angeal looked him up and down. "We can talk later." He was glad to see that Cloud had come to talk with Sephiroth. He did not want to interrupt that, knowing that their friendship was still new and being explored. And after Cloud had been so upset the past day, this was good for him as well as for Sephiroth.

"It's okay," Cloud said. "I could go . . ."

Angeal shook his head again, waving a hand dismissively as he turned to leave. He pulled the door half-shut behind him.

Cloud placed his hands on his knees, looking to Sephiroth. The older man had moved further onto his back, and he seemed fairly relaxed. There was a far-off look in his eyes, as if he was remembering other times. Sephiroth had likely been happier before Nibelheim had happened. Was that what he was thinking of? Cloud shifted. In some way he wanted to ask, yet he did not know that he should. Still, it would not hurt, he supposed. The worst that could happen would be that Sephiroth would tell him it was not his business.

". . . Are you thinking of better times?" he asked.

Sephiroth came back to the present. "What would be your definition of 'better times'?" he returned.

Cloud looked at the floor. "Before . . ." he mumbled. "When you were in SOLDIER."

"There were both good and bad times then," Sephiroth said.

"Yeah. . . . But you hadn't . . . well . . . gone nuts yet. . . ." Cloud shifted.

Sephiroth gave him a long look. "No," he said at last. "My definition of 'better times' would be during this period."

Cloud stared at him. "Now?" he said in disbelief.

"Yes." The old days had been enjoyable. He had been happy then. But he had also been unaware of so many evils. He was wiser now. And he had been reunited with most of his friends from those times. They were still his friends, and he had gained a new one, as well. If the one remaining friend from the past would ever return, then all would be complete. Yet even if such a time never came, he would not wish to return to those days. He would continue to miss that friend, but he would not give up what he had gained since the time of their friendship.

Cloud was suddenly overwhelmed. From Sephiroth's eyes, he understood that he himself was part of the reason why Sephiroth considered this time to be the best.

". . . Sephiroth?"

"What."

"I'm glad you're back."

Sephiroth blinked in surprise. But then a vague smile came over his features.

Cloud leaned back in the chair, smiling a bit as well. For now he was just enjoying this time with his friend.

When he thought of it, he did not know if he would consider any period in the past to be better than now. He still missed his mother deeply and longed more than anything for her to be there. But she was thrilled that he had found so many wonderful, loyal friends, and that even Sephiroth was among them. He was not the same lonely kid who had been rejected by the majority of the townspeople. He had grown up.

The burdens of his past had been lifted. He was truly happy.


End file.
